


Everything Is Coming Up Draco

by JLPierre



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Eventual Smut, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Humor, Romance, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-07
Updated: 2017-04-16
Packaged: 2018-09-22 17:53:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 56,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9618638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JLPierre/pseuds/JLPierre
Summary: Winner of 'Pass The Tissues' Best Hurt/Comfort Fic in the Dramione Fanfiction Forums Spring 2017 Awards 'After All This Time.""You can't trust a snake Granger, we bite remember?" Draco announced. Hermione smirked gently, "they say that about lions too." When Draco and Hermione come face to face with one another at Hogwarts for their eighth year, they have to finally work through the unresolved feelings left from one summer night after his trial. With sexual tension and new beginnings, anything can happen.Warnings : Rated M for Sexual Content and LanguageBeta Love to Dramieylo and SaintDionysis.





	1. August

**AN:**  I hope you all love my new piece, it's a bit, unlike anything I've written. I love to hear what you think, good or bad, and I hope you'll enjoy this piece

**Warnings:**  Language and reference to war and deaths.

**Update: Once a week at least.**

**Thank you to the wonderful SaintDionysus & Dramieylo, I owe you everything.**

* * *

**August**

* * *

**August 31st, 1998**

Her trunk was packed and her bag crammed with books. The morning had been exhaustive, filled with farewells that left her cheeks damp from the tears of goodbye. The endless woes of Mrs Weasley were becoming irksome and, as horrible as she felt about thinking it, she was rather glad that she was going to be away for several months. The older witch was cupping her cheeks as she stood at the back of the crowd, Hermione slowly edging closer to the fireplace in the hope of just fleetingly escaping.

The Burrow, which usually flurried with happiness and delight, had been coated in a veil of mourning since the war ended. It was completely understandable; more so it was expected. For Hermione though, it just made her feel like she should do more or leave and allow them the chance to grieve without people watching them. It was upon Mrs Weasley's insistence that Harry and herself stay, and while appreciated in the days following the end, it had worn thin in the weeks of journalists wanting statements and the repairs at Hogwarts.

It was all the more uncomfortable when she finally spoke to Ron. A warm summer's evening that started out light-hearted before turning darker before her eyes. It was silly of her to think that the war would have pushed him to grow up, to see that his need to prove himself was childish — after all he had just fought in a war and saved thousands of lives. It all came down to the fact that he loved her, but he wasn't in love with her. No matter her protests, he wouldn't believe that she loved him. It hurt, and she wouldn't admit this to anyone, but it was what caused her to reply to her former head of house's request and accept the offer to finish her final year.

Hermione had hated telling them— the many eyes fixed on that belonged to the sea of red heads that lived here, their open mouths as she broke the news over dinner. Her stomach bubbling with nerves and doing flips as she tried to prepare the words that were too hard to say. The silence that followed was worse and she was sure a pin could have dropped. She watched as Ron stood up from the table, his eyes burning into her with the hatred she had never known him have for her. Harry following much to her dismay, even if he did look just as disappointed in Ron as she was. She felt her heart sink, wishing that for once he'd stand by her side and not go after him. If not for Ginny, she was sure she'd have collapsed into the chair in tears. They took her choice as an insult, although it was never one, to begin with, and it was more for herself, to better herself and make the parents that didn't know she even existed, proud.

That was what drove her to drown her sorrows—ending up in a dingy pub with even grimier company. She had never been one to have much interest in alcohol, not entirely liking the taste, or liking the state it got you in. But she needed to relax; she needed to find a way to make her head stop buzzing all the time.

She blamed the alcohol for shutting down her brain and thus causing her to slide in beside no other than the bright blond Slytherin she detested. His booth was quiet and in darkness, as if he hoped to remain anonymous or unseen. She couldn't stop her mouth from spouting words including discussions of his trial and times they both would rather forget. Hermione couldn't stop even when he looked at her pleadingly with those silver eyes that she wished she didn't like. She wished she had remained tight-lipped when he offered to walk her home and instead of nodding... instead of looping her arm through his and proceeding to follow him out of the door, she wished she had just slumped herself at the bar and hoped someone else rescued her.

Ron eventually found a way to act normal with her. She had her suspicions that Harry had interfered; while normally that would bother her, she was just pleased everyone was speaking. The hangover she nursed that day halted her from saying anything more than, "I forgive you, Ronald," and put as much effort as she could muster into a hug. She spent the next few days to her departure with Ginny. The two cleaned her bedroom and finding and packing all of Hermione's things. The two girls chatted all the while about who would be returning and if they would be sharing classes, which Hermione did know she would, but she remained tight-lipped when it came to discussing Ron not wishing to lose her friendship.

On the morning of her departure, the tears were fresh and the happiness bubbling in her chest as Harry happily stepped closer, wrapping his arms around her neck, the hug was meant to calm her but had only managed to put her more on edge. The realisation that they would be separate, that for the first time she would be without her two best friends at the school where they had met.

"If you need anything..." Harry whispered.

If not for the thousands of times that she had heard that offer, she was sure she'd have smiled. Everyone she knew had said it at some point. The first being when she found out the spell on her parents was irreversible. Then when she told them all she was going back to study because she felt she needed too, she had been inundated with, 'if you need anythings.'

Hermione painted a soft smile on her stern mask, releasing Harry without it looking like she wanted him to let go. "I believe that I am quite capable of looking after myself, Harry James Potter," she replied curtly before grinning. "But, I will owl if I could do with a bit of the Chosen One's help."

"Okay,  _Brightest Witch of her Age_ ," Harry teased as she poked him softly.

Her eyes were moving to Ron who was edging closer, his hand rubbed the back of his neck as she took a large breath before trying to appear calm. "We'll worry about you, won't we?" Harry asked Ron as he nodded in reply.

"Well, I don't think there is much need. You'll be here, after all, trouble follows you." Hermione giggled under her breath as Harry threw his arms around her once more, her frame jumping in surprise before relaxing into his hold finding herself more comfortable with his hug than the first one.

Ron had moved closer to them and currently looking unsure whether or not to add to the hug or wait his turn. When Harry finally released her, Ron forced a smile and placed his arms more casually around her. "We'll miss you…"

"I'll miss you too," she said truthfully, biting her lower lip to hold back her tears. "Please be careful,  _both of you_."

"Don't replace us," Ron whispered as he pressed his chapped lips to her cheek, a flurry of warmth spreading out over the site where he had touched and a blush spreading up her cheeks as he let go.

She swallowed whatever was stuck in her throat, taking the bag strap from Harry as she nodded to them both. "I could never replace you… either of you."

Harry threw his arm around Ron's shoulders, the two moving closer as if creating a shield between her and the rest of the Weasleys. She took one last look around the place she had called home for the last few weeks, a bubble in her stomach that she assumed was excitement slowly simmering, but with a smile, she flushed it away. Stepping back into the fireplace, taking a handful of powder in her movements she met the green eyes once more, hoping to convey the message that he needed to look after Ron now.

"Professor McGonagall's office." Hermione declared as she dropped the power, watching time slow down as the powder tumbled through the air and a slow flash of green flames licked at her legs and skirt before she felt like she was sucked through the air.

She was going home. Finally.

* * *

**August 31st, 1998**

When he had received the owl in a drunken mess a few days after his trial at the beginning of August, he was sure he was dreaming. There could be no way that the school that he had helped ruin wanted him to return, it was ludicrous and unlikely. Upon further investigations once sobered, he realised how true it was. While he was stunned, he had never been more certain about doing something more in his was how he came to be sat across from the Transfiguration professor, her stern glare burning into him as she asked him the question he had known would come.

_What do you hope to achieve?_

Draco could list a thousand and one things. A hundred at least revolving around what he didn't want his life to mean and what he wanted to change. So he answered the question fluently, he apologised and did what his mother advised him to do the most, "put your tail between your legs." It happened to work in his favour, the professor nodding with a smile that showed she was impressed before asking him to follow. He walked through the castle that he had spent hours repairing, he walked past places that held memories he wished had been buried and he found light where there use to be darkness. All in all, the castle looked and felt more like home than it had done previously, and for that, nothing made him happier about his choice in coming back.

His punishment was unexpected, a loss in their finances and a mark upon his record that meant he needed to be squeaky clean for twenty-four months. He wanted to add in the courtroom that he would never be seen walking in his father's footsteps, they were not shoes he wished to wear, but he saved that anecdote for himself and simply took what was said on board.

He wrote two letters before replying to the offer at Hogwarts. One to Potter, where he thanked him for his words at his hearing and the other to Granger, for coming and testifying even after all he had done to her. He sent them with hesitation, not that he didn't want to say the words in them but because he was scared of what it would mean when they read them. Would they still look at him with disdain like he deserved? Would they turn from him in the street? Or worse, would they hate him forever?

He heard nothing back, not that he expected too. Which made it all the more uncomfortable when he came face to face with the bushy-haired Gryffindor, in a pub, alone. He didn't approach her, he simply buried his head in the sand and when she stumbled over he had induced far too much to remain his usual self. He wasn't sure how much either of them had consumed to end up talking all night in the dark corner of the Hogs Head. He wasn't sure how much she had consumed to place her arm around his neck and whisper that she, "had forgiven him long ago," but when he awoke the next morning with a stonking headache, he had a good guess that he had consumed the entire back wall of the pub.

Draco was far from surprised when he received an owl from her several days later. No mention of her regretting their clearing-the-air conversation and for walking her home, but she only asked that he would keep the evening to himself.

He bitterly threw the letter in the fireplace, throwing a glass full of whisky after in good measure just to ensure that it was properly destroyed, his childish nature came into play. He wasn't surprised that she was embarrassed because he was still him after all, but he couldn't deny it hurt.

That was why his insides froze when he saw her stood before him in the common room of their new quarters. The place specially dedicated to the eighth years that had decided to return, her face looking just as surprised as he would be if he knew how to show emotion. It didn't help that neither of them was familiar with this room, or wish each other. Neither of them listening as they were told the history of the place and why it was so special.

The whole world could have come under attack at that moment, and he was sure that she'd have still continued to stare at him, a mixture of anger that he was there and surprise that he had bothered to come. It almost made him want to say something sarcastic, so she knew this wasn't some alternative world that she had created in her mind. He refrained, however, his presence alone was bound to wind her up and he actually wanted to live an entire year unscathed after the last few stressful years.

From the careful look on their professor's face, he assumed some fireworks had been expected. Little did the two witches know but he had made a choice to change, his new demeanour hopefully being a shining example of that. A lot can change when you watch a vindictive dictator use his snake to eat your old professor, purely for entertainment as the room around you enjoys steak. Your opinions change when you open your eyes to the grey you had ignored and admitting how little you knew of anything that wasn't black or white. Yes, he had been an awful child who bullied, blackmailed and even tried to kill. It didn't mean he needed to remain that person and he wouldn't.

"I trust that it is safe for me to leave you two alone?" The professor finally spoke, his head turning to meet her glare as he nodded. "Dinner will be served in your new quarters; the other students will return tomorrow."

"Other… students?" Granger asked, her voice cracking in between as he looked to the ground.

"Yes, Miss Granger, other students have taken up my offer," Professor McGonagall spoke sternly. "They will join you two tomorrow, I thought it would be good sense to get you both settled with each other first and to save face at the station, I do know of your… peace treaty due to Mr Malfoy's case but I assumed you both would need some time not to be so,  _frosty."_

"Thank you, Professor," Granger replied. Draco just nodded curtly, listening as the door in which they had come through closed. He slowly lifted his head to find her staring at him, his whole body running cold as he became unsure of what to say.

This was one of those moments, like the one on the steps all those years ago. When he should have bitten his tongue and not insulted the red haired boy beside Potter, where he should have been a better person. He wanted to move closer, to show he wasn't a threat but quickly decided against it in case she flinched.

"I have done far too many things to warrant your acceptance of this request," Draco managed to begin. Although he was despising how confusing his words were, wondering why he felt the need to always seem like an obnoxious prick. "Let me start again." Taking a deep breath as he closed his eyes, hoping it would relax him. He had been reading a book all about managing his anxiety and whilst he had initially thought the tools were ridiculous, he found they worked. "I meant what I said in the letter. I am, truly sorry. If you could find it within yourself to give me a second chance, I'd like a fresh start."

"Like…  _friends?_ " She spat as he internally flinched at her tone.

Draco bit the inside of his cheek for a second, but she continued before he had a chance to say anything more.

"That was, rude of me. I apologise," her hand brushing a curl behind her ear as her hazel eyes danced over him. "You made my life hell; you bullied my friends and I. You… I am a forgiving person Malfoy, but I'm not quite a miracle worker."

"Not to burst your balloon, Granger. But I didn't ask to be your friend; I only wanted to call a truce, a fresh start. After all, that is why you are here and not with your real friends. You wanted a fresh start without the risk of death, right?"

* * *

**August 31st, 1998**

He was really stood here. In front of her.

Hermione was breathing as best she could, and if not for her eyes trained on him, she was sure she'd have passed out. He looked… ill. Like he hadn't slept for the longest time. Her mind flickered to parts of the letter she remembered reading, his apologies and his words that held no meaning because she honestly didn't believe that he could muster that kind of emotion.

But now, here he was. Asking her for something she wasn't sure she could give him. He warranted nothing from her, and she truthfully didn't think she could pretend to be okay with him. He was Malfoy, a man who made her teeth grow and called her names. Ignoring all the things he did when he was under pressure, he was still a rotten person.

Seeing him now, fallen from grace and unmistakably ordinary, she felt like she wanted to give him that hope. That it must have taken a great deal to come here, to be around people she knew would detest him. He had no friends that would guard him, he had no family to protect him, and he had no heritage to be proud of. All that he was and would, was all gone.

She felt bad.

"You don't seem surprised to see me, Granger?" the voice pulling her from her thoughts.

She felt the shudder down her spine at his casual use of her surname, memories of his eyes watching her writhe on the floor filling with tears. The times that he used her surname and the other horrid things that would be attached to it and deep down, in her very core, a flame ignited, and rage began to build. She wasn't going to give him the power of taking her confidence this time; she was Hermione Granger. She was powerful, intelligent.

Straightening her back as she licked her lips, crossing her arms across her body as she stared through him, not willing him to have anything to use against her. "Well, it is mandatory, isn't it? You being here, part of the ruling to not imprison you?"

His arms stretched out as if needing to crack his bones, a snort of sorts escaping his lips a little louder than he probably intended as his eyes moved to the flames burning in their new common room. He looked like he was in pain, bags circling his burning eyes as they stood out boldly against his pale skin. His features seemed more prominent than they were even in their sixth year but softer somehow, less pointed and more handsome.

"Never had you pegged as one to believe in childish gossip there, Granger," he snarled as she felt her cheeks burn. "I chose to come actually, rather that then… well. It doesn't matter."

"Well… I would apologise but, I think it would be rather wasted on you." Hermione retorted as she was sure she saw him smirk mildly before frowning.

"I think I will survive."

Hermione shook her head in annoyance, "of course you would. God forbid the  _Great Draco Malfoy_  suffers, or cares about anything, for that matter."

"Don't mistake my lack of care for you, Granger, to be a universal trait. I simply choose to display emotion to those who I think can handle it."

She glared at him as if she wanted him to burn. There was a fire in her eyes that she had never known and while usually, she'd simmer them, she'd not want to lose control around someone who was apparently trying to get a rise out of her. She couldn't hold it in. It was as if a vile, anger-ridden person had emerged from the depths of her subconscious and even as the fiery words erupted out of her, she didn't quite believe it was she who was saying them. "You made my life hell. You made me feel ugly, weak and undignified. You watched me bleed." His steel eyes flickered between softer grey and dark black when she accused him of horrid things and comparing him to his father.

When she asked him how many people he had hurt, he looked set to burst into tears. Even watching him look close to sobbing—the man who was once the boy who made her cry in bathrooms—she couldn't hold back. It was as if someone had finally lit the fuse on the bonfire inside of her, the eruptions of the hateful fireworks that had consumed her for so many years as she continued to spew words at him, words he took. It was only when she began to run out of steam, his cheeks flushed and his stance less confident than before that she realised how therapeutic that all had felt and her caring nature began to come into play when she saw how saddened he looked.

"Are you quite finished?" Draco asked softly, looking deflated and out of steam. He reminded her of a man that had fallen from grace and still hadn't quite landed on his feet.

Hermione continued to meet his gaze, annoyed that he had said it so simply as if she should have said more, attempting to think of something just as bitter to fight back with but was coming up short. She had expected rage back; she had expected fire and explosions. This, it was different.

When she didn't respond, he held his hands up. "I'm sorry," he mumbled as she felt her insides freeze as his eyes moved from her face to her arm. That arm, a look on his face she couldn't quite name. "I should…" he gulped as he fixed his eyes on the flames once more. "I could have done something more. I shouldn't have bullied you, I shouldn't have picked on you for who you are, and I definitely shouldn't have been an arse to you. I could stand here all night and tell you all the things I learnt in the last year that makes me different than who I was. But I know that it means nothing. I could stand here and argue back with you, but I won't. You, Granger. Are right. I wanted to be like my father so bad; I imitated him. I watched him. I nearly killed for that man. But I never hurt anyone, well not intentionally. I never meant to hurt your friend, or Katie," his eyes looking down in shame. "I never did anything to anyone else, not after, not again. I couldn't; I wouldn't."

She opened her mouth, immediately closing it as she felt the need to hide from him, hide her arm from him, not that he could see it through her jumper, but she felt he could. She felt it was staring at him, that it was staring at the entire room and reminding them all of what they had all wished to forget.

"Why?" Hermione managed to ask.

"Because I wished I had taken Dumbledore's help," Malfoy muttered as he looked down, his hand rising to run through his hair. "I wished that I had been the one killed instead. When he died, I realised that I couldn't… I would never be like my father... because I cared that he died. I felt sad that he had died. My mother always said my heart was pure..." His eyes were looking up at her as if expecting her to snort or say something. "Hard to believe, but... I'm not the devil, Granger. I just pretended to be. Childish I know, but I was raised differently to you. My ideals are… were different."

Hermione watched as he seemed to wrestle another onslaught of truth. She wasn't even sure that she could hear it, never mind take it all in, and he didn't look set to share anyways.

That was until he sighed, his shoulders relaxing and he met her eyes. The silver orbs glistening as if fighting tears as he parted his lips and carried on, "and then to add another layer of confusion to my life, you three showed up, and I had to lie. I had to stand there and feel utterly helpless and realise..." He looked at her with all the intent he could muster, hoping to convey that he was speaking the truth. To show her how in turmoil he had really been in. "I realised I cared Granger. I cared if you died, I cared that you was hurt… that you were hurting. I cared. I cared if you lived or died, I cared and still do care if you are okay."

She had lived that night so often in her dreams that it made her sick. Her arm was always feeling dull and painful when she first awoke, but it was his eyes that haunted her. The questions in which they sparked as they stared at her, longing for her. She put it down to just fear or wishing for her just to surrender, but hearing his thoughts and seeing the conflict of pain on his cheeks; she almost felt like she understood, even if she didn't want too.

"I don't hate you," she whispered as he looked up at her wide-eyed. She didn't, she realised in that very moment, although a part of her wondered why she didn't. She opted instead to ignore that part, the darker part of her and chose to continue to step into the light, the future and not the past. "Do not be so surprised that a Mud —"

"— Don't!" he tensed as he interrupted her. His lip curling at the word, visibly flinching into himself as if she had burned him or caused his insides to twirl inside of him. "Don't use… that word. Don't call yourself that ever!" Her mouth opening to speak but he silenced her with a look as he added, "just don't, okay? Never use that word, never."

Hermione watched him, his eyes darting around the floor as if purposely avoiding hers and trying to find a safe place to rest his sight on. Her fingers moved to her hand, pinching the skin to ensure she wasn't dreaming. She remembered the written letter she had received, his apology, the words of his allegiance that she had put down as lies and thrown into the fire at the Weasleys. She had been so sure that he couldn't change, wouldn't… but it was hard to deny now that she saw him as he was. A broken soul that was just figuring out how to live with themselves.

"— I have a heart," she continued as he nodded, avoiding her eyes entirely. "I don't blame you. You were just trying to survive."

The words at the end of the letter returning to her mind, I know you'll blame me forever, I blame myself too. For all of this, a smile creeping in the corner of her lips. His face paling as she nodded slightly to give more meaning to her words and make them seem true. Knowing that a nod would do little but it was all she could offer.

"I appreciated your letter; it must have taken you a lot to write it," her feet shuffling to adjust the weight from standing for so long. Phrases from it flashing through her mind, I wish I had been brave and what you did for my mother means so much that I am in your debt. Things that are so unexpected from him, things that are so out of this world, she almost felt like she was dreaming. Hermione remembered when he handed her a goblet of pumpkin juice when she had helped rebuild the east side of the castle. The two of them not speaking, the two not sharing any looks or acknowledgement until then. "I want to believe you've changed," his hand moving to rub his knee as she watched him. "I just…" I need time; she wanted to say.

"You don't have to explain yourself, Granger," he whispered softly, his eyes meeting hers as she noticed how dull they looked now. The same as they had done when she found him in the Potions classroom, sat staring blankly at the board as if he was waiting for their old professor to sweep in with his long, greasy hair. Draco Malfoy looked like he had been broken just as much as some of the other victims, more so right now as he stood before her. "Leopards and spots," he added with a small smile before rising to his feet. "I should check my room, make sure that my mother sent over my things."

Her mouth was parting as she watched him walk away, his shoulders sunken as he crossed the room quickly. Hermione found the door with his name on before he did, watching as he took them all in before gently opening the door in front of him.

"I can do a truce," Hermione called out as he paused in the doorway, her heart stopping in her chest as he raised his head but not turning to look at her.

"Okay." That was all he said, the sound of his door closing making her jump. Her hand moved up to her chest, the feel of her beating heart against her hand and she sunk into the armchair beside her. Draco Malfoy had just quoted a muggle phrase, and he had used it correctly, she was more than a little shocked at that.

Hermione found that she was equally as shocked with how different he seemed, not knowing if she could handle the newly non-pompous Slytherin. She wasn't sure she had it in herself to deal with this new version of him because she had been prepared for arrogance and obnoxious remarks the moment her eyes met his. But this, it was like completing a level on one of her old consoles as a child and then coming up against a new boss she had no clue to beat. She felt lost and for the first time ever, she missed the world she had once known.

* * *

**xox**

 


	2. September

**AN:** I am blown away with how many of you have taken an interest in my work. I don't think I can put into words exactly how much you have made me smile and feel so happy. Thank you to all those who have reviewed, reached out, even followed this and me! You have made me a very happy girl, I hope you enjoy this chapter as much as the first.  
The early update... it may happen occasionally but I just wanted to treat you all for being so kind & sending me such lovely words.

* * *

**September**

* * *

**September 1st, 1998**

Hermione found him already sat at the table when she awoke for breakfast. She noticed the night before that neither wanted to remain in the others company and he had either opted to not have anything to eat or had previously smuggled something into his room so he didn't have to come out. She didn't blame him and if she was truly honest it was a lot to handle seeing him again. Now stood facing him, she painted a smile upon her lips that would convince him all was still well. Hermione had never been great at hiding her real feelings, Harry had always said that she had far too many tell-tale signs to be able to hide but then that was with him and not Draco. Although, she wasn't sure if she'd be able to keep up the pretence that his company didn't effect her but she knew she wanted to try, for him as well as herself.

Seating herself opposite him she slowly removed a piece of toast from the racking and quietly began applying the butter to it, his eyebrow cocking up behind his paper before his eyes eventually looked over it at her. She tried to ignore her instinct to stare back, to questionably look at him for looking at her but she remained placid, even if curiosity was beginning to grow inside of her.

_Was he reading something that she ought to be aware of, or was he simply reacting to the fact that she was making a crunching noise with her knife and butter?_

Hermione also began to think that she could be worrying about nothing, that he was simply reading the paper and that he cocked his brow at something he had found humorous. Or, she had something on her face.  _What if she had something on her face? Would he tell her?_  Her hand placed the knife loudly on the table, her mind running away with her as she tried to subliminally brush her cheek and mouth, her eyes watching him, waiting to see if he said anything. When he didn't she tried to remain calm,  _what if she was over-analysing the situation? What if he was just simply sat there minding his own business?_

The witch raised the piece of toast to her lips, watching as he laid the paper down in front of him as he prepared another cup of tea for himself. Her eyes catching the faint pink scars on his neck as he tilted it to the side as if he was stretching. Her amber orbs following where the scars that were left from the sectumsempra curse, tracing them as if they were leading her somewhere until she got to his shirt-covered chest, her eyes widening as she began to blush. She wasn't quick enough at hiding her discomfort or the new pink in her cheeks. She wanted to move from the table, embarrassed that he had caught her looking at him like that but he didn't look at all concerned that she was tracing them with her eyes. To be truthful he seemed to be wearing them as if they were his best attire and with a confidence as if being attacked in a bathroom was no cause for concern at all.

It baffled her somewhat. Not because of the air of confidence around him, as he always had sported that even in his lowest moments, but because of the difference in the way he hid his arm at all times. Hermione had noticed it at the trial, his arm always hanging across his lap turned away from everyone around him. With a bite of her toast, she noticed how his sleeve was down on that arm, that the white of his shirt looked, even more, whiter as if it was covered with something else or wrapped in a bandage.

Then, if that wasn't enough, there was a signature of magic hanging around it. She could feel its power even from the other side of the table, a disillusion charm that he must conjure each day. Hermione didn't blame him, she knew the feeling all too well herself. Her eyes moving down to her arm that was wrapped around her waist subconsciously. Her forearm facing her stomach as she thought about how it would be there forever, marked and unbeautiful.

"If I could I'd apply the same charm to the rest of them, I would," his tone thick with regret as if he had read her mind. "Mother says I should be proud," a loud snort came from him suddenly as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, her mouth parting at the beautiful shade of silver they were. "But then she doesn't have the mark of a sociopath, does she? She saved that for her son."

Hermione felt words stick in her throat, her once busy mind suddenly silent as she blinked several times before managing to cough out, "they tell a story." Her tone thick with optimism that she would not normally be able to muster. "They are a  _reminder_ …yes, that's all they are. A reminder of when life tried to break us and we chose not to let it."

Draco placed his tea down, not speaking but he raised his elbows onto the table and placed his hands under his chin.

Hermione continued, "I'm not ashamed of them." Her shoulders straightening as she managed a real smile, a proud smile. "And, neither should you —"

"— Who said anything about me being ashamed, Granger?" His words weren't laced with poison like they once were, instead, they just danced over to her, as if he was amused or even mocking her. "I'm not ashamed of being  _moronic._  I'm not ashamed of  _loving my family_ ," as if somehow those were the only two things his mark stood for. "It made me who I am now. All of it. But I don't have to wear them with pride, they aren't wounds I earned from standing up for myself. They are proof that I am simply,  _a coward_."

Hermione lowered her arm down to the table, the word staring at him across the table as she watched him flinch when she did so. "To not letting our failings shackle us," her other hand moving to her goblet as she held it between the two of them. His silver eyes washing over her before he slowly raised his to meet hers.

"To wearing our stupidity as the best armour," he countered as they clicked their goblets together.

Hermione lifted her glass to her lips as she tasted the sweet pumpkin juice, "I still don't like you much."

And then she heard him chuckle, his fork sliding across his plate as he picked it up. And she was sure she heard him mutter ' _typical Gryffindor'_  as she copied and lifted up her toast once more, the two continuing to eat in silence but the air feeling a little more comfortable to sit in.

* * *

**September 1st, 1998**

He wasn't sure whether to be pleased when he saw the smug grin on Theodore Nott's face as he stepped into the common room for the new eighth year. It wasn't that he liked the idea of being the only Slytherin, he actually resented it if he was truthful, he just wasn't sure that he could deal with Theo for the next year by himself. Their eyes met immediately, he watched as others filed in behind him and he groaned at the flash of blue and yellow robes as he realised how many students had chosen to return. He somehow had wished it was just them two and the two Gryffindor's currently  _hugging it out._

Draco felt his insides go cold as he came to face to face with his childhood friend, both of them having been in each other's lives since they could talk and their fathers began plotting to kill a child. He didn't exactly associate Theo with the horridness of the last few years but he knew that his friend had strong opinions on his choices, even if he said that he understood. The two of them had once thought the men they looked up too were good people who had everything they wanted.  _How wrong they were._

Theo, maybe not in his opinion, had lucked out during the war. Nott Snr. was hit with a stray curse from one of the other Death Eaters and was killed upon impact with the Great Hall wall. Draco hadn't been sure if he had ever seen Theo that happy in his entire life, not finding it odd at all knowing what Theo had been put through because of his father. 

The two men had always spent a considerable amount of time together. At first, it was because Draco's mother had taken pity on the boy for losing his mother so young, the two of them suspecting it was guilt over knowing the details that surrounded his mother's sudden demise. Theo was then suddenly invited to live with them when his father had passed and Draco began to question his mother's logic sanity, wondering if she realised that he was eighteen years old and not eight. However, he knew not to go up against his mother, even if she wasn't in the right frame of mind.

"Malfoy."

"Nott," he responded with the same dry tone. The two men looking at one another before shaking hands with their usual goofy grin. " _So_ , you fancied another year of fun?" Draco asked as he let go of his hand.

"You know me," Theo winked as he looked at their surroundings with his nose turned up. "Wasn't content with counting my galleons in a large home that belongs to me."

" _You_ , are ridiculous."

Theo swanned over to a door that suddenly spelt his name as he tapped his finger against the sign, "I love seeing my name on things all of a sudden. Looks fetching now,  _doesn't it_? The Nott name will finally be known for something good and not associated with mysterious deaths and cruelty."

Draco moved closer to his friend, realising suddenly how much taller and broader he had seemed to become over the last two years. He placed a hand carefully on his shoulder hoping that it provided the communication that he was there for him, without him having to say it. Theo turned, flicking his dark locks from his forehead, before looking intently into his eyes as if wanting him to read something in them.

"Thanks, Malfoy."

"Anytime," Draco nodded as he released his friend's shoulder. "You know, you are as good as family."

He wanted to say more. He wanted to let the man know exactly how much he meant to him. A year ago, if he had said it they would be admitting that it could be the last and that was the reason behind it, but now it felt like he would be saying it for the right reasons. A real reason with real meaning.

Theo seemed to have a similar thought, breathing in deeply before sighing and poking him in the chest. "Brothers?"

"Brothers," Draco cemented, going to poke him back but failing as the wizard moved quickly. He wanted to laugh, remind him that he'd get him back one day before the two of them looked at their marked arms hidden by their jumpers. Draco wondering why they had ever thought this would be a good idea. "For life."

Theo grinned as he suddenly itched the place his mark was, a sensation that Draco felt but had tried to ignore. "I think I like that they mean that we are brothers… better that than what they really stand for."

"What?  _Idiocy and bad taste_?"

"I was thinking more genocide and hate, but I like your way with words," Theo laughed as he moved to where he had placed his bag, flicking his hair from his face once more. "You going to help me unpack?"

Draco rolled his eyes as he sighed jokingly, "I guess… _If I have too_." He teased, knowing it sounded all too similar to when they were younger and followed him into his room, closing the door carefully behind them.

* * *

**September 1st, 1998**

Hermione wasn't surprised by the lack of students who had wished to return, many would have found their good memories tainted by what they saw on May the 2nd, she knew herself how difficult it had been to get her own head around. She was however surprised by the warm face of Dean Thomas coming into view, a Gryffindor that she had spent several years with and other than a few things that she had picked up in conversations, didn't really know at all. It, however, felt so normal to go up to him and place her arms around him, unsure where the impulse came from but was glad when he wrapped his arms around her.

"Hermione," he breathed as she felt herself relax.

"Dean," she replied as they let go, her eyes gazing up at his height wondering when they grew up so much. "How…" her hand rubbing her arm, " _are you_?"

He smiled one of those smiles that lit up rooms, a smile that you wouldn't believe would be on someone's face after the horrors in which he'd seen and been through. "I'm fine, I am."

Hermione watched as his eyes strayed over to Draco who's back was turned to them, he was talking to the only other Slytherin to return to Hogwarts and she remembered was named Nott. She studied Dean's face, waiting for a clench of his jaw or a muscle twitch to show his anger at the Slytherin's presence. Once again, for the second time that day, she was taken back to see him smile when the grey-eyed man turned to meet the stare that had alerted him. The two men giving one another a curt nod before Draco returned to his conversation and Dean turned back to her. Her fingers strayed up her arm, pinching her skin to make sure she wasn't in an alternative world. Hermione had braced for fireworks, for wands drawn and words that would cut through the air, but this... _this was unexpected._

"You…  _are okay_  with him being here?"

Dean laughed, putting on another smile that brightened her mood considerably, "he was the one who helped me come back, he offered to help buy my books with my mum having to go into hiding during the war. She... had to give up her job and that."

Whilst Hermione kept a cool expression on her face, she wanted to let her jaw hit the ground. She wanted to drift her eyes over to the Slytherin to see if he was paying attention to their exchange, waiting for her to seem impressed with his charitable kindness. When she did manage to glance a look, he was walking to a room that had suddenly assigned itself to Mr Nott and she swallowed back her surprise.

"That was…  _kind of him_ ," Hermione tried to say convincingly.

"Don't get me wrong, we aren't  _best mates_. But, I can't imagine being in his position either… No one signs up to support a maniac, do they? He just thought the ideas were right at the time because of how he was raised," Dean shrugged as if they were discussing something trivial and not a man he had forgiven who's family had locked him in the cellar. "I can't hate him for that, no one can really. That's why you and Harry supported him at the trial, right?"

Hermione stared for a second, taking it all in what he was saying and putting the pieces together as she tried to find a reason to disagree with them but failing. She slowly began to nod, " _right_."

Dean clapped his hand on her shoulder as he picked up his bag, "say hi to Harry and Ron for me, best go find a room."

"Yeah," she replied distantly, not even watching him walk away as she remained trapped in her mind.

It wasn't that she thought Dean's opinions were wrong, she actually agreed and thought they were rather mature for all that Dean had been put through at the hands of Draco's family, but it was odd. Yes, he was always more level-headed than Seamus had been but it was still a lot to forgive and forget. Her hand began to trail up her marking, her conscious arguing that she had forgiven the man yesterday. She had called a truce with him after all and he had ensured she was okay when she had gotten into that

Her hand began to trail up her marking, her conscious arguing that she had forgiven the man yesterday. She had called a truce with him after all and, he had ensured she was okay when she had gotten into that state whilst intoxicated. So, why now was it so much of a surprise that others had? Why did it surprise her that Draco could be a good person when so far he had shown her only that?

He could have blackmailed her when she had kissed him, even if she had been drunk at the time. He could have teased her all about it when they walked through London and most definitely didn't have to make sure that she got back to the Burrow, even after she had accused him of making a move when really it had been her.

_Could she be wrong about Draco Malfoy?  
_ She wasn't quite even sure if she had ever known the real Draco, not till now at least.

* * *

**September 15th, 1998**

"You don't have to defend me, Granger," Draco snorted as he put back the books that were in his arms. His eyes scanning the bookshelves of the library as her eyes followed, watching him full of fury. "I  _am_  a big boy, a few words aren't going to quake me to a puddle on the floor. Least of all from a Ravenclaw who has his own issues."

"You could just say  _thank you?_ "

He spun to face her, shaking his head before smirking and placing the next book on the shelf. She had overheard the remarks being thrown at him for days and was shocked to find him remain silent each time as if he hadn't even heard it. Some of the eighth year students were truly struggling with their close living quarters and with whom, as they made clear at most opportunities. It seemed unsurprising why none of the rest of their year returned, most had gone on to do other things as the Prophet announced most mornings or as Malfoy informed her, most were not wanted.

Hermione stamped her foot as he continued to snigger. " _God_! You can be such an  _arsehole_!"

"You sound almost…  _surprised by that_?" He snorted louder as she felt her fist ball up.

Hermione twitched her jaw as he put the last book back, turning around and looking surprised to still see her stood there. She didn't know why she had followed him to the library, she didn't know why she had stood up for him when he had only rolled his eyes at her conversation that morning on rights for elves. She blamed Ginny, the little red witch getting into her head about being a friend to those in need and the interesting information she had received from her new found friendship with a Slytherin brunette named Astoria.

"What? What do you need from me, Granger?"

"You know… you aren't helping people's opinion of you when you continued to be an utter, pompous —"

"—  _A_ _rsehole_?" Draco finished with a smile as she rolled her eyes. "Why are you even defending me? I mean, your crown Granger, it won't remain shiny if you continue to hang out with the likes of me and other disgraced souls."

Her eyes softened, her shoulders sinking slightly as she wondered the same thing. It had been weeks and here she was, most nights, in the darkest corner of the library with the same pig that had once made her cry and now she was defending him. She tried to find a rational explanation, but she was coming up short. Her mouth opening and closing periodically as she froze, not wanting to say the real reason and that was that she cared.

_She cared about Malfoy_ , a shudder running down her spine at the thought.

"Maybe I think —"

"— I think,  _that_  is your problem," he interrupted. "That the Gryffindor in you thinks you can save me and all that. I warn you, Granger, I am far past saving. Even if we pretended for a second that I haven't been a bloody arsehole since I entered this world, my Aunt mutilated your skin and my Father was quite happy to condemn you to death. And where was I, stood, huddled like a coward in the corner. I know we called a truce but like you said,  _we aren't friends and you don't even like me that much._  We are simply two people who cannot stand  _Ernie MacMoanarse_  and  _Terry 'my ego needs its own room' Boot_. That is all. So, whilst you feel you've done a great favour to me by defending me, you just wanted a reason to have a pop at them."

Hermione looked at him as he ran his hands through his hair. A tick of his that she had noticed he only did when he felt he was being far too open or was feeling vulnerable. She had noticed for days that he was letting a part of the walls he built around him down, only for them to go up a second later as if being honest and vulnerable was horrid. She had begun to think of Draco as the one who was more honest, to the point and often vulnerable, whereas Malfoy was the one who was sarcastic and snotty. Although she knew they were the same person, but it made her feel better to know she was in a corner of her safe place with Draco and not Malfoy, that she laughed at Draco and that it was Malfoy that once made her cry.

"I trust  _you_."

Three innocent words, not meaning a great deal to many but she knew from the moment they touched the air that they were everything to him. What little blush he had in his cheeks evaporated from his skin as if she had stolen it.

"You can't trust a snake Granger,  _we bite_  remember?"

Hermione smirked gently, her hands moving to hold her other hand in front of herself as she rocked on her feet, "they say that about lions too."

* * *

**September 19th, 1998**

He had been unsettled all night. The bottle on the desk was something he had been fussing over ever since she had bid him goodnight the night before.  _Would it mean something?_  That was what he was worried about. To him, it was a peace offering. But she was a girl. Girls tend to overthink things so would he need to explain his reasons behind it, or would he be able to  _just hand it over?_  Hermione wasn't like most girls, though. That was what countered his original thoughts, slumping back down into his mattress as he tried to figure out the best cause of action, what really to do and to try and stop himself from being consumed by a bottle of wine that meant  _nothing!_

Draco was sure that she would think it was laced with poison, he  _was_  the bad guy after all and part of him wondered why he even cared. He had apologised,  _twice now_. He had explained himself,  _twice_  and he had even told her to keep her distance.

He didn't care, that was what he settled on when he slowly began to sit up. He would simply hand it to her, let her deal with her own issues herself and just walk away, knowing that at least he had done a nice thing to do.

Draco grabbed either side of his pillow with his hand, gripping and tugging at it until his knuckles went white. He wanted to scream, he wanted to bite and tear because he wished he hadn't heard it was her birthday and he wished that he didn't care. He wasn't someone who was made to care, he was emotionless, he was meant to be cold and he was meant to be broken beyond repair.

_Had she been the one to break him? Was her act of kindness the very thing that had now flawed him, was what had made him act so differently?_

Draco was pulled from his thoughts as he heard a door along the corridor close. He clenched his eyes as he despised how he knew that it was her, he could sense it and hear the way her feet shuffled. He groaned before lifting up from the bed that had seen no sleep, moving over to the desk as he snatched the bottle and flung open his door without allowing another second to think.

Her eyes turned to him immediately, the look of surprise only seemed to make her look more endearing and again, he despised that. He despised that her lips had awoken some sleeping desire inside of him and he wished with everything he could muster that he could forget the sweetness of her laugh. He didn't halt his movement as he moved over to her, her hands clutching at envelopes he assumed to be her cards.

"Happy Birthday," Draco announced. Her eyes moving from his face to the bottle he was thrusting towards her, his mother's voice ringing in his ears castrating him for not being a gentleman. He snarled to himself as he moved closer, kissing her cheek as he smelled worldly fruits and happiness eroding off her. "I hope you enjoy...  _It_."

"Um," Hermione blushed as she slowly took the bottle. "I… thank you."

Draco nodded, feeling ridiculous by the moment as he suddenly felt her eyes wandering over his skin, realising that he was shirtless. " _Shit_ ," he mumbled, before seeing how much she was looking at him. His mind suddenly firing into overdrive as she couldn't break away from his skin, a new air of confidence filling him and whilst he enjoyed it, it felt wrong. "Granger, you're staring."

"Huh?" Hermione said as her head snapped up, her cheeks turning crimson now.

"Nothing Granger, have a nice morning," he tried to say without grinning, moving back towards his room as he tried to hide the glee that not only had Hermione Granger once drunkenly kissed him, she had just checked him out without the excuse of alcohol.

* * *

**xox**


	3. October

**AN:** Thank you for all the LOVE. I cannot put into words how much you all mean to me; I really can't. I did try. When I see all the emails that come through because someone wished to follow, favourite and comment it makes my day. This entire piece is a little different for me; I hope you enjoy it as always and thank you for the support.

I dedicate this chapter to  _ **SaintDionysus**  _& you should check out her fantastic piece:  **Confessions**

* * *

**October**

* * *

**October 7th, 1998**

Draco had watched her storm through the Entrance Hall, her hair on edge and a face full of fury. He attempted to tell himself that he should know better than to go chasing girls with faces that looked like that. Especially not with hair that could strangle him with a mumble of a spell but,  _try as he might_ , he was already chasing after her.

He attempted to ignore the screaming voice in his head to leave her be as he climbed the staircase. His survival instinct wrestling with his conscious. The protective part of him that needed to ensure she was okay began to dominate. He tried to silence the doubts of the devil within, and as he started to win, Draco found that he wasn't just walking after her, he was charging after her, and with all the speed he could muster without raising her suspicion.

He knew better than to call her name. He knew that if she turned around she would unleash whatever hell was concocting in her mind to spew all over him and burn him to ash or she'd ignore him, because it was him, and he realised that would hurt a lot more than her hair would.

Draco watched as she twisted around corners that he knew confidently led to nowhere and it dawned on him that she may wish to be alone. She may not want him around her; he may even be the reason she was in such a state. He tried to figure out his best step, whether he could return to the shadows of the corridor undetected when suddenly the sound of her feet halting was heard, and he felt her venomous eyes on him.

"Following me,  _Malfoy_?"

He swallowed, not because he was scared but because there was something rather attractive about her looking as furious as she currently was, "I am just out for a _leisurely stroll_  Granger. Do you wish to join me?"

"Funny. Hilarious,  _always the bloody comedian_ ," Hermione spat as he jumped a little at her tone, unsure how he could forget how icy it could be when she wished.

He took a step closer, making sure it wasn't too fast or too slow. He didn't want to anger Hermione further, but he also didn't want to make her scared, he was still unsure what exactly her opinion of him was, and he didn't plan on having another dress down this school year.

"What are  _you angry_   _at_ , Granger?"

Draco saw a flash of pain in her eyes and was surprised when she laughed. Quickly assuming it was one of those 'either laugh or sob uncontrollably,' he mused to himself as she moved her stare down at the floor.

He followed her line of sight, watching as her eyes fixated on a crushed bug in the stone, not willing to take her eyes from it as he began to wonder how long he had been here. Whether he had been another product of the war or if he merely come in on someone's shoe, was he dead because of something he failed to stop? Was he, a bug, another casualty of war?

Draco pulled his eyes up, attempting to shake the shivers of a panic attack away as he began to breathe slowly in and out of his nose. He tried with all his might to remain calm, to keep the mask up and not appear weak in front of someone who was so strong.

"Granger?" Draco called with a hint of impatience, immediately worrying if it sounded like he was irked at her when in fact it was the impending attack he could feel in his bones.

"Everything," she answered in a calmed tone that made her look somewhat unhinged. "I'm mad that nothing has changed, I'm mad that it's all still broken, That no one has learnt anything. Those people remain the same stuck up people who think so little because of blood. I'm angry, and I am sad that no one will ever change."

"I have," he whispered suddenly. Wishing with a heavy heart that he had remained silent and closed his lips, trapping the words instead of letting them float out because now he was afraid that his confession would mean little to her, that he was nothing. "I've changed." He added, hating himself internally for not shutting up.

Hermione's shoulders relaxed, and he wished, no, wanted that to be enough. He wanted it to mean enough that if he, the toe-rag bully from school, could change then it meant that others could.

He heard her sigh and the dread that somehow, it held no meaning and it didn't fill her like he expected it to hit hard. "I know that in the grandness of things I am but one man —"

"—  _A good man_ ," she interrupted him softly, and he pursed his lips together, feeling a flicker of confusion wash over the mask he wore. He took a breath, unsure why he was refraining from doing the natural thing that kept him alive, tilting his head to the floor to give him a moment to compose. He pondered if she too was looking at the bug, before thinking how idiotic that was.

"I'm angry that it still haunts me," she whispered. Her confession was hanging in the air like some disgusting artwork, Draco's eyes trailing up to meet her face as if it hung before them, disgracing the both of them.

"I'm angry that everything I think of, everything that I do, I wonder if it makes an impact. I wonder if things are that way because of how things were left or if it's  _how things will be_ ," Hermione trailed, the words rolling off her tongue as if someone was pulling them out. "I feel so strong yet  _broken_  all the time as if I am a breeze away from falling apart. I feel like I am a spell away from concaving yet all I want to do is fight. It does not matter that I was on the winning side, that I helped take down the evil in this world, I am  _still_  a minority and that that makes my  _skin crawl_."

He felt like he was stood on an invisible edge, one push away from falling and drowning in a sea of emotions at the bottom. His mind struggling with all his doubts on what to do, never mind what to answer. His thoughts were plaguing him with why Hermione even cared, why she felt compelled to care and why that had made him feel so uncomfortable.

"I want things to be fair," she finished, her tone doused in sadness.

"It will be…  _Rome just wasn't built in a day_ ," Draco smiled. Hoping that with the addition of his genuine smile, it may fill her with some happiness, that she shouldn't give up exactly as the phrase says.

* * *

**October 16th, 1998**

She had spent the entire evening with Ginny, the two laughing in their old common room over old memories and both sharing their discomfort at missing what had been. While she loved her new home and the privacy it brought, she didn't like being away from the other Gryffindor's. It felt like she wasn't part of that house anymore and she especially missed Ginny. The two had spent so much time together over the summer that she had become a rock for her and while she found she was coping alone without her, there was still a hole where she should be.

Hermione climbed into bed that night playing over their laughs, hoping tonight she'd be able to sleep without nightmare's ruining things because she had forgotten to get more Dreamless Sleep from Madame Pomfrey. It had been at the top of her to-do list, but time always seemed to evade her when she was with the youngest Weasley.

Hermione hated how much she thought when she got into bed, most people relishing it but she found that her brain often tried to deal with things when she was meant to be finding peace. Gone were the days where she absently wished and recited good times before going to the land of nod, not it was all pain and suffering that she thought off.

The laugh that haunted her dreams woke her in a mess, her whole body rigid and her mind confused as to what had happened and when she had fallen asleep. Her forehead was wet with sweat as she peeled open her eyes and saw the safety of her room and not the horrid, Victorian chandelier that had been above her in her nightmare.

Her arm painfully ached as if she had been given the markings all over again. She had felt each cut of the blade this time when usually she just felt the general ache of it happening. She could feel it now, clawing into her skin and reopening the wounds that had healed months ago. She didn't feel like she was awake, yanking up the sleeve of her arm as she pressed her cold palm to the word, soothing it immediately.

Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to sleep but just to be able to focus on her breathing and bring it back to normal. The image of eyes appeared, and as her breath caught in her throat, her body relaxed when she saw that they weren't the usual dark one that had lorded over her that day. Instead, they were grey.

At the time she had paid no interest to him stood in the corner, but for once she found solace in them in the middle of her nightmare. The grey eyes that watched her full of fear and empty of strength, finally being able to see the depth of what he was going through when she had thought he was just simply a coward. She clung to nightmare-Draco's image as he slowly brought her peace as if he was saving her and even though this was her daydream now, this was something she couldn't stop thinking about.

It made her almost want to go back to the nightmare, fix her eyes on his and change the course of that hellish day. She wanted to change the course of time, even just in dreamscape so that she could show him and bring him ease. It wasn't until she opened her eyes, her breathing returning to normal and her heart rate settling that she realised her opinion had already changed. That yes, he had remained in that corner frozen in fear, but she didn't feel disgusted by that thought anymore. In reality, she understood. She felt for the first time that her eyes really opened to the surroundings of that day. That her hatred for him wasn't based on him standing there and mocking her, he was just as mutilated and horrified by it all as she was. He was another broken soul that false no choice.

Hermione rolled over onto her side as she picked up the book on her bedside table, giving into another sleepless night from fear. She shifted to a comfier position, opening the page as she raised her wand to light the room. The words danced around the page as she blinked several times, attempting to focus and read but all she could see was eyes.

Silver, grey, _steel eyes_  that stared at her for help. Eyes that belonged to a person she suddenly wanted to see and comfort. Wasn't sure what it all meant.

Hermione wasn't sure what it all meant.

* * *

**October 17th, 1998**

"Someone please just throw her a galleon; otherwise  _this_  is just sad," Theo teased as they walked into the shared eighth-year common room. He followed his friend's line of sight as his eyes glanced at Hermione who was dancing on a table looking similarly to the woman he saw in the pub on that fateful night. Draco rolled his eyes as he forced the bag into his friend's hand as he made his way over ignoring the knowing stare he was getting from Theo as he did so.

"Come on down Granger," Draco offered as he outstretched his hand for her to get down. "While I do like women dancing on tables, I think you're a dance away from earning galleons."

"You!" She seethed with squinted, glazed eyes. "You and your stupid face."

Draco rolled his eyes as he re-put his hand out for her to take, her hand slapping it away as he pinched the side of his mouth with his teeth.

"You, have gotten me all confused with your  _nicey-_ nice show and your stupid, ridiculous looks." Her mouth snapped shut, his lips spreading into a smirk as he raised his brow and his reaction only made her growl.

"Oh please, go on."

"You're infuriating —"

"— And you, my dear Granger. Are sloshed from drinking your birthday present," Draco chuckled as he moved closer and simply grabbed her and threw her over his shoulder. "Anyone protest if I throw the lion into her pit?"

Theo looked ready to make a jibe that he silenced with a glare, turning his attention over to Dean and the Ravenclaw's that were in the huddled up in the middle of the room playing chess. Dean stared right at him, and he braced for a harshly worded onslaught that would melt away his confidence. Instead, the Gryffindor laughed and shook his head to indicate he didn't mind and the Ravenclaw's followed suit, his body relaxing at another day of pleasantries with his fellow housemates.

Dean was someone he had reached out to before his trial, not in the hope of swaying his testimony but rather to help heal the wounds that he may have helped cause. It wasn't a lengthy letter, and it wasn't one he received back either, but the meeting it created was one for the ages. The two walked in silence down, what was left off, Diagon Alley, the looks they got were worrying, but neither seemed to acknowledge them. When the bag of gold was handed over to the Gryffindor, he looked set to say something emotional, but he was pleased to find that instead, he shook his hand, thanking him. He held onto that moment all the way through his trial, the hope in that man's face and he promised himself if he didn't get sent down that he would right more wrong's, no matter what it took.

He smiled as he felt her relax as the realisation dawned on her that she wouldn't be able to fight this. "Excellent," Draco smirked as he adjusted her on his shoulder.

He moved over to her door suddenly feeling the pinch of skin as he hissed, "I'll do it again," she hissed from over his shoulder. "You know I will."

Biting the inside of his mouth so not to scream. "Sweet mother of Merlin, Granger! I am trying to help!"

"And I," she slurred, he could only imagine the pathetic attempt of her brushing her bush from her face. "Want to give you a mind of my peace!"

Pausing outside of her door, slowly lowering her to the ground as she raised her brow in an attempt to seem annoyed but only looked cute. "A mind, of my peace?"

"You... are infuriating!" Hermione snarled as she lowered her protective wards and Draco began to hope that she was coming to terms with the fact she was going to bed, whether he needed to use force or not. Opening her door, bowing as she grunted and entered. He took three strides to her bed, carefully lowering her from his shoulder before placing her on the bed.

Hermione seemed to stumble, his hand instantly out as he hooked her arm with his own and steadied her. "Are you —"

"I, am fine!" She furiously declared. He sighed slowly, motioning for her to continue as he led her carefully over to her bed. Draco moved his hand around to her forearm and taking the other in his hand as he slowly lowered her to the bed.

He caught her eyes, those beautiful brown eyes that had seen far too much and been through too much. He held back the gasp at how honest they looked as they stared up at him, so full of forgiveness and he was sure he could see her soul, and it was beautiful. She was beautiful. A thought he had been trying to fight for so long but no longer could.

"I'm going to remove your shoes, Granger," he softly said as he knelt down. His hand slid over the back of her ankle, the slight brush of bare skin sending tingles down his hand and up his arm. He could feel her eyes on him the entire time as he removed one after the other, placing them carefully just under her bed so she wouldn't trip on them. He wanted to look up, but fear made him unsure if he could, not knowing if he'd ever be able to survive another look at purity. "Goodnight, Granger," he mumbled as he stood up, avoiding her gaze as he moved over to her door.

"Mal –  _Draco_ , wait," he paused in his exit, looking over his shoulder first before turning on his heel to face her. "Why don't you tease me?"

"What?"

Her cheeks flushed pink, "you... use to tease me. I mean I know the blood thing," Draco felt his jaw clench, tilting his neck slightly to crack the annoyance away. "But the other things, my hair? You, just leave me alone."

He wanted to reply with something witty, something worthy of a tease that would keep her happy but he found that whenever he was around her, he just simply couldn't do it. He could fabricate a fake hatred for her anymore even if he did want to. Even if he wanted to make normality continue for the both of them, all he could see was her eyes,  _those eyes_  that begged him not to lie anymore.

Draco took a step closer, a considerable gap remaining between them, "because I have nothing to tease you about, I'm not saying that your hair doesn't irk me or that your  _know-it-all tendencies_  don't bug me. A lot of people annoy me far more than you do and I think they always will; you also use to be one of them... I guess I downgraded your annoyance," he caught her eyes as he cleared his throat, bringing himself back to his point. "With you, however, the things I once teased you about are tiny compared to the large quantities of things I'd admire about you."

He watched as her eyes widened, desperately wishing that she didn't do that because it made harder for him not to tell her more.

"Plus, Granger. I honestly don't think I could take it if you decided to tease me back," he smiled as she seemed to blush. "I'm a sensitive soul you know?"

Hermione's lips curled up into a smile, and he could hear her brain attempting to think of something to say to disregard his honest comment, "as if you could ever handle someone else teasing you."

Draco shrugged, " _touche_."

Then he heard it. That little laugh that made his stomach do a flip. It had been the one thing he had played in his head over and over again while he sat at his trial, having heard it in the corridor before he entered. It wasn't that he had thought much of it, it was just nice and hopeful. Everything was pinned to it; it meant something to him.

"Go to sleep, Granger."

She smiled as she nodded, "okay."

"Okay," he repeated, turning on his heels as he made his way to the door, his hand touching the door knob.

"Draco?" He looked over his shoulder as he met those amber, brown eyes that could make him do the splits if she asked him too. "Thank you, again. For looking after me."

He nodded, resuming his destination as he clicked her door shut, wanting desperately to tell her he'd be there anytime. Not quite sure if he could continue to mask his feelings for her, not even sure when they had first begun

* * *

**October 26th, 1998**

He was cold. His eyes struggled to open. Draco tried with all his might to raise his arm; the shooting pain brought back the painful flashbacks his mind wished to forget. It was stupidity that had him in the corridors after dark; it was the false feeling of invincibility that had convinced him another hour wouldn't do him any harm and yet, here he was in the cupboard somewhere in harm's way. He didn't need a mirror to know how bad it was, he could feel it, and he could taste the bitter, iron of his blood on his lips. His head pounded and his body felt as if it was weakening by the minute, never mind the throbbing he felt in his abdomen that hurt just to think of.

It was in these moments that he wished he wasn't so alone. If he had allowed people in, maybe he wouldn't be where ever he was, because maybe, someone would have come looking for him. If he weren't so afraid of letting people in, he'd have someone that cared for him other than his mother. He also probably would not have been left for dead if others knew what he was struggling with inside.

_Fate is a fickle thing_ ; he told himself as he rested his head against whatever was behind him. The cold of the surface eroding through him as it numbed his head considerably.  _Fate was and_ is  _a fickle thing._  How else would he be at Hogwarts, on a second chance with one-third of the 'Golden Trio' when he didn't deserve it. He could feel darkness pulling him in, wanting to fight but having little strength to be able to do so. He wanted to cry out, make some noise so someone would find him but it came out like a mew and sounded more pathetic than a mouse. He felt so much frustration. He felt alone and for the millionth time in the last two years, he felt scared beyond his wit. He didn't to give up, he didn't want to remain here, but here he was, losing as usual.

Draco slept after that, waking up in the same place but much colder and with only a little more strength than he had before. It felt as though the wounds that had been weeping before had stopped, his hand rising to grab onto a ledge or a surface. He wasn't sure how he managed to stumble to his feet with the destruction he had caused by doing so, the many bottles that had once sat on the shelf now discarded over the floor. Draco managed to open the door, stumbling out into the deserted corridor, leaning his entire body against the wall as he shuffled. It dawned on him with a heavy heart that he had only been several doors down from his new common room and the annoyance he felt suddenly reached a new peak.

He slumped onto the sofa once he had gotten in, relishing in the comfort the chair brought and he agreed that tonight this would be his bed. Draco was thankful that no one had woke when he had fallen through the portrait, he was grateful that no one else had fallen asleep out here so that he could moan and groan as much as he wanted too.

_Or so he thought._

She appeared within seconds of his eyes closing, her gasp at the sight of him only confirmed that he did look as bad as he felt and when her hand brushed his cheek his whole body lit up and his eyes flung open. He must have looked frightened, he felt afraid, her eyes full of apologies that made his initial reaction simmer.

"Sorry...  _was you_ ," her voice trailed off, their eyes caught in a moment that neither of them knew what to do with. Draco was taking in all the flicks of gold in the midst of chocolate brown, the way it led him to her inner kindness, and he saw a flash of her soul once more, hating the sight of it when he looked like he did.

"No," he muttered as his throat ached at the force of trying to speak. "Fight with a...  _wall._ " He wanted to beg her not to ask him anymore knowing how weak his lie was. He didn't want her to do anything about it; he just wanted her to heal him and bring him some relief. "Can you... Heal, me?"

Draco watched her nod, her teeth biting her bottom lip in her thoughts and he somehow knew that this was something she wouldn't leave alone. He didn't want to tell her all the answers to things she didn't need to know, and he didn't want to be a burden on her any more than he already was. He needed her, yes, but only to heal him and only to keep his secret not to fight for him. He didn't deserve anyone fighting for him.

When the coolness of a spell washed over him, and some of the discomforts he had felt seemed to wash away, and his body relaxed imminently. Hermione was whispering something either to him or herself, but he couldn't formulate his brain to listen because instead, he was focusing on feeling each limb come back to life and relishing the joy he felt at being able to feel his fingers.

The last time he had felt such pain was at the hands of his house guest. His father's disgraceful failings had fallen to him to pay back. He remembered writhing around on his floor, his teeth biting down on his tongue and wishing the pain would just kill him. He didn't scream like Voldemort had wanted. Instead, he found a focal point and put all the emotions he felt into it. He remembered that it had been his father's eyes he had stared at, hauntingly staring at him with a hope that he'd never forget the look of hatred written across his face.

Last night, however, he had chosen a sharp edge, and he remembered wondering if he thought carefully enough whether it would combust into flames. He couldn't stare at those who were doing this to him; he couldn't fill them with remorse and regret because a part of him felt this was deserved. It was a small price to pay for being alive when so many weren't when he was spared, and so many were locked away.

"Draco?" His eyes blinked fast as he came back into the room with those chocolate eyes with gold swirls in front of him. His name had never sounded so good out of anyone else's lips like it did hers. He just hoped it didn't taste bitter for her to say. "Who  _did this?_ It isn't right?"

" _All is fair in love and war_ , Granger," Draco huskily replied, his voice cracking from the strain of speaking.

Her mouth fell open as if she was surprised and he sunk his head into the back of the sofa, swallowing hard as he closed his eyes. "Euphues... The Anatomy of  _Wit?_ '

"Do not sound so surprised," he mumbled before coughing. Slowly he began to smirk, hoping that she was doing the same. "I'm not an uneducated  _oaf_  you know."

He felt the cushion beside him sink as he assumed she had moved to sit beside him. Draco sensed some aura of hesitance as the sound of her brain whirling around as she contemplated whatever it was that she wished to ask. He could feel her magic changing, evolving around them as if emotions were making it sporadically and he wanted to comment on it. He wanted to ask if she was okay but he could feel his body slipping again. Sleep was wanting to take him, and he was struggling to fight it.

Draco was sure he had only been asleep for a moment. A heavy jolt having woken him as a murmur escaped his lips at the fake fall that falling asleep brought. His eyes struggled to open, needing to blink several times to remember where he was and why there was a heavy weight on his side. He turned his head looking to his right to find her nest of hair resting on his shoulder, her eyes closed and her lips spread into a smile. He wanted to commit this to memory, just in case it was the closest he ever got to the witch but as he tipped his head, he saw a sight he liked more, her fingers weaved around his.

It would be a lie to say that it hadn't taken him by surprise. Twisting his fingers against hers as he pulled Hermione's hand closer to his as the electricity he felt pumping through his veins at the skin of their palms touching. It all began to make him feel whole as if all the cracks within him were healing at her touch and her show of kindness had started to mend his damaged soul.

He assumed that he must have taken her hand as he slipped to sleep, hoping that she did not mind. Draco closed his eyes slowly, basking in the knowledge that he was holding hands with a girl who wanted to be beside him and wasn't forced too. He tried to simmer the smile that wanted to appear, reminding himself that it was just for tonight and that tomorrow they would return to keeping one another at arm's length, but it didn't simmer it. It didn't take the shine away from how wonderful it felt because he always had tonight,  _he would always remember tonight._

* * *

**xox**


	4. November

**AN:** For me, at least, this is where it begins to get a little fun. **Drum Roll**  **FLASHBACKS.**  
Anyone who has read any of my other work knows how much I love flashbacks and because this was such an important piece for me, I had to include them. So for those who have cleverly picked up on the hints of their first 'kiss', it is coming.

For the other piece of my soul  ** _FairyStoneLove_ , **if not for her you would not have this piece.

* * *

**November**

* * *

**November 1st, 1998**

He woke alone.

His hand still outstretched over his thigh, his fingers parted exactly how they had been when Hermione's had been filling them. He stared at it for quite some time, attempting to imagine the feel of her skin against his before he clenched it into a fist. He had been weak, he had been breakable, and he had allowed her to see him and view him that way. He was in half a mind to find her, tell her that he simply held her hand because he was scared for his life and there was no hidden meaning behind any of it.

It would be a lie, however, and he despised that.

Draco blamed her lips for confusing him. He blamed her scent, with all its fruit and flowers wrapped in it, for blinding him. He blamed himself for thinking he would ever be worthy of someone like her.

He dragged himself to his room, closing the door quietly before throwing every protective ward he could think of and several silencing charms around the chamber. He stood for a second and just felt it all, the pressure and the weight of his feelings before he raised his wand and hexed everything in sight. He hexed things that had done no harm, he hexed things that were personal, and Draco hexed things that reminded him of who he once was, including his robes. It didn't feel enough.

 _It would never be enough_. A few things that seemed more broken than Draco was would never make it enough; it would never make him feel like he could or would be sufficient. Draco knew he didn't deserve her kindness; he wasn't worthy of the truce they had made and definitely wasn't worthy of the friendships he was building with her.

Draco deserved to be alone, drowning in his vomit from consuming his weight in alcohol to rid the nightmares. Which ironically was exactly how he had planned to spend the entire year, not here, learning things he already knew with people that couldn't stand him.

_"You have much to offer, Mr Malfoy," Professor McGonagall had spoken. "You have a second chance."_

_I don't deserve a second chance_ ; he thought as he began repairing things in the room wordlessly.  _I deserve nothing. Because I did, nothing_.

The memory of the sound of her screams puncturing his spirit. The wild eyes that burned into him, begging and pleading for help. The way her blood ran down her arm, the way it looked red like his, the way it dripped from her wound was the same texture as his, and he was too late, he was too cowardice to protect her. She'd have that word, that horrid and disgraceful word as a reminder of how horrid he had been. It had been his lips that had first hissed that word, his mouth that had made her cry and now it was his fault that she had a reminder of it.

He had done nothing. He never did anything.

Draco wanted to rid her off it, even if that was all he was ever able to do for her. If that were going to be the only time he would ever be able to touch her skin, he would take it because at least she'd be healed, never fixed but at least partly healed. Hermione wouldn't have to wake each day and think of herself that way, the way he had made her think for so many years. His head in his hands as he wished to claw at his skin, shred what covered his bones and cause himself as much pain as he caused her.

_It would never be enough, it would never be enough._

He wanted to remain here trapped in his homemade prison with his barely-intact room. Draco wanted to continue smashing every single object in it, watching in anger as he put it all back together wishing and desperately wanting to be slotted back together again. He wanted to do it over and over again until he felt better, knowing that he would never feel better, always knowing he'd be this way. But he knew what today was, a day that once filled him with glee and now just sadness. Today was Hogsmeade, and the memories of yesteryears were far too much to ignore and while he wished too, with all his energy. Draco knew that he couldn't let his mother down and he was aware that she was far more alone than he was.

So he rose from his misery, stared into the face of the man in the mirror and painted his usual mask of indifference. He loved his mother, more than he loved anyone.

* * *

**FLASHBACK - August 5th, 1998**

"I bet you think you  _are so lucky_ , don't you Malfoy?" Her hand was struggling to raise the glass to her lips. "With your gold and your guilt-free life!"

He folded his arms, placing the usual smirk he wore across his face as he watched her, no, studied her. He wanted to comment that the Brightest Witch of Her Age had taken a tumble from her pedestal, but he could see something in her eyes that told him he was too late for Granger-bashing tonight. "I think that you have had enough, Granger."

Hermione scoffed, an undignified one at that. A scoff that would never be heard coming from her mouth usually and again, he saw vulnerability in her statue, and he almost pitied her. Draco hadn't needed her to stand on that podium and declare his hesitancy. He hadn't needed her to rile up the troops, so to speak, to defend him. Draco was sure he would have gotten off, after all, they already had his father, and he was the one they wanted.

"You don't get to tell me what to do, Malfoy."

"I don't suppose anyone does, Granger," he retorted as she looked at him with narrowed eyes. Draco watched her mouth open and close, her lips pursing together on the second time and he found that he was laughing, "I am right, aren't I?"

Hermione crossed her arms and attempted to straighten her posture when she near fell from the bench, his hand instantly reaching out to grab her and pull her closer. He felt her eyes wash over him, an emotion in them he had never seen in someone's eyes never mind felt run through his entire body. It touched the cold parts of him that he had never known were cold, it burned him where he had never felt anything, and they froze him, surprised him.

"You can let go," she hissed through clenched teeth, and he did. His hand held in mid-air in the same grasp as it had been with her arm inside, his eyes just staring at it and completely unsure why he had gone to touch her. "Wouldn't want to dirty your hand now, would I?"

Whatever Draco had thought he felt for a moment was wiped away in an instant, his jaw had clenched, and he had turned from her without as much of a blink.

"Or are you still going to claim that you've changed?"

He told himself not to bite; he told himself to remain calm and count to ten or whatever other ridiculous things the book on coping had provided. But that tone, that snotty-innocent voice he remembered so much from school haunted him, it festered in his head and made old wounds weep with anger. "I never _claimed anything,_  Granger.  _You did_. When you stood trial defending me."

* * *

**November 1st, 1998**

"You are sharing a dorm with Malfoy?" Ron hissed. "Is McGonagall off her nutter?"

Hermione braced as a shadow cast over the table, "actually, Mr Weasley. I am off perfect health, unsure if I can say the same about you in a few moments. After all, you are not one of my students anymore."

Harry dipped his head as he picked up his Butterbeer, placing most of his face in the creamy froth to avoid the confrontation that was going on behind him. She couldn't help but smile at how familiar this all seemed. How normal and like the old days. She wanted to commit it to memory, to photo even and have it stare at her from her bedside table. It was strange to think a year ago they were living in a tent, hunting for things they knew nothing off and half-wanting to give up.

Her mouth opened, prepared to say this to Harry when Hermione's attention was suddenly stolen as she saw the flash of blonde and her insides her froze. She involuntary sank further down into her seat, attempting to hide and she quickly mirrored her friend at the sight of him, a reaction that wasn't missed by the usually oblivious Harry. She stared at where Draco's attention was focused on, thankful that so far he had not noticed her not wishing for an awkward interaction after this morning.

"Malfoy, huh?" Harry whispered with a frown as she felt her cheeks burning. "You know, I don't even want to know."

Through gritted teeth and under her breath to not make aware Ron aware, "there is nothing to know,  _Harry Potter!_ We are simply housemates."

 _Who apparently hold hands,_ she quivered as she thought of his hand in hers. The warmth that it had brought when she had woke, the flash of happiness and the wave of fear it came hand in hand with, near bowling her over with confusion. Hermione knew that she couldn't afford to get any closer to him; she didn't want too. They were frenemies, that was the word she had come up with to describe them, friends but enemies as she felt it correctly described them. Just because they didn't battle over every little thing and insults didn't fly around nearly as much did not make them just friends. It couldn't. It didn't.

"Hmm," Harry smirked. " _Housemates_."

She was about to respond when Ron turned back to them, his cheeks a dangerous red as if he had been handed a tongue lashing and a dressing down from the Hogwart's matriarch. He took a large gulp of his Butterbeer getting a lot of the cream around his face, and she couldn't help the disgusted look that spread over her face, she had somehow thought becoming an Auror would make him grow up.

"Whatcha' talking about?"

Harry smirked, and Hermione kicked him under the table, jumping at the contact as he glared at her, "just snakes and ladders."

"What is that?" Ron laughed as Hermione felt her cheeks warm.

Harry met Hermione's eyes fleetingly, but purposefully, "a  _dangerous game if you don't know the rules_."

Ron looked thoroughly confused, and if Ginny hadn't just walked through the door, she might have expanded on Harry's point, but she didn't need Ginny getting suspicious ideas - after all the witch was at Hogwarts too. Hermione moved her chair to the side so Ginny could squeeze in, the aura that she and Ron were now third-wheels on the two love bird's reunion. She would have quite happily left the pub allowing them to have a date, but something in her gut told her not to leave with Ron. She had become accustomed to bailing him out, either with homework or in his life that she was surprised that so far she hadn't received more owl's asking for her help.

"You could look just as happy to see me, I am your brother," Ron selfishly commented. Hermione's eyes were suddenly rolling as it proved once more that Ron still hadn't grown up.

* * *

**Flashback - August 5th, 1998**

Hermione felt her feathers ruffle as she stared in disbelief at the stone cold eyes off the Slytherin. She was shocked because he couldn't have just thrown that at her after what she had done for him. "Slytherin, Granger. We bite."

"You are just rude more like it!"

Draco looked at her with a smirk, draining his drink and ushering her from the bench as if  _he was done with her_. He couldn't be  _done_  with her; she wasn't even close to being  _done with him._  She had far too much to say to him, from the pointless letter to the forgive me eyes across the courtroom. She had way too much to air out, and she needed to do it now, because... well she didn't know.

"I can hear you brain whirring, Granger. So how about you finish your drink and go home to Weasley, he'll be worrying," he replied softly, and the change in tone and demeanour caught her off guard. "I've changed. It is possible for me to do that you know? It's not my sort of scene to watch fellow students be tortured in my home, not the exact dinner entertainment I'd like. I've seen things, Granger."

She swallowed hard as bitter regret had begun to rise. Draco was right; she had stood and defended him, so it wasn't as if she could just take it all back now. Hermione looked up to see him leaving the pub, her hand snatching for her bag as she got up after him. Her eyes sought him out, the blond hair walking towards the other end of Hogsmeade and she wasn't sure why she didn't just shout, even when she was removing her shoe it didn't hit Hermione that she had a voice, a voice she had often used.

With a raise of her wand, a whisper of the Levitation Charm and her shoe was flying at him, making a brutal contact as she stood looking smug when he turned around to face her.

Draco looked more livid that she had ever seen, the anger in his eyes was fiercer now as if he wanted to pierce her skin with his glare. His jaw clenched, tightening as she imagined his teeth sinking into the inside of his mouth, but she stood her ground. "It appears,  _Granger_." He hissed through gritted teeth, walking closer to her with purpose. "That you threw something at me."

Hermione looked at him indifferently as a snort came from his lips, a sunken look on his face that made her feel an emotion she wasn't familiar with when it came to him. She felt sorry for him.

"You want to think that I wanted that.  _Fine._  I wanted that," Draco snarled sarcastically, bending down to put her shoe on the floor and roughly handling her ankle as he slid it back in. "If that is what helps  _you_  sleep at night. If it makes your cushy perfect life a little easier to live."

"My life isn't perfect!"

Draco laughed mockingly, slowly rising back to his feet and meeting her dead in the eyes with a look of contempt she had never seen, "of course it is. I bet you had bloody colouring books with good people and bad people in it. I assume the bright blond git was on the bad guy's page and the red haired tosser was on the good side. I even bet that Mummy and Daddy coloured them -"

Her hand was suddenly out before she could stop it and made contact with him, slapping him cold in the face. The words he was going to say, lost to the contact as she began to shake in anger.

" _You._  You don't get to talk about them."

Draco licked his lips as he rose to stand, his body uncomfortably close to him as she smelled the musk of his aftershave. "It appears I have hit a  _soft spot_."

* * *

**November 10th, 1998**

Hermione watched Theo slide in beside her, his eyebrows flicking up as he acknowledged her. She couldn't help looking around, waiting for the moment that the laughter broke out and she became the butt of a joke. It never came.

Theo just opened his book on the desk, flicking to the page with the potion on it that was on the board—The Draught of Living Death.

She had felt quite nervous about the prospect of preparing the potion after the disaster the previous time, but she had made sure to read up on it a few times when she had thought about returning to Hogwarts. It was like a second sense that it would come up, but she was rather glad she had a second chance to show her real making.

"So you, Malfoy. The two of you...do you care to share the titillating information about how you've become besties or more?"

She frowned, looking at the Sopophorous bean that he had begun to prepare in front of her, "I'm not sure what you are referring to, Nott."

"Theo. Not Theodore or Nott reminds me of my father and..." he shuddered and watched him smile before looking at her. "Please call me Theo, Hermione."

Hermione pinched the skin on her hand, unsure if this was a dream, the whole situation seemed bizarre, and the classroom had begun to look quite fuzzy.

"He's... very defensive of you. I've known him my entire life, and that does not happen." Her face remained placid, simply keeping her eyes fixed on the page in front of her even if she couldn't see the words. "Hermione?"

"Hmm," she responded before looking at him.

"Do you want to begin adding the African sea salt to the water," her eyes moving to the beaker beside him as she frowned, wondering when he had managed to get that without her notice. "He also spoke quite fondly of you after his trial," Theo's brows wiggling as he began cutting the Valerian roots into small squared pieces.

"Why don't you just ask him yourself? If you are such good friends," Hermione tried to rebuke, not wishing to have a conversation with the Slytherin, never mind one about Draco. "As far as I am concerned, we are classmates, housemates and acquaintances." Theo raised his brow, a smug look on his face that reminded her so much of the old Draco that it made her blood boil. She motioned to retrieve the essence of wormwood they needed, his elbow sliding to her the appropriate tools as he smirked to himself. "What?"

"Nothing," Theo lied with a grin, adding the Valerian roots to the beaker, looking at his watch smugly as he began timing the three minutes. It was a long silence, one that made her uncomfortable until he finally sighed as the liquid turned a blackcurrant purple. "I am receiving death looks, so you are sure you want to continue the pretence?" His tongue was sticking into his cheek as he poured the Sopophorous bean's juice into the cauldron, "I'm a good secret-keeper, Hermione. It would stay between you, and I."

Hermione folded her arms, his constant badgering beginning to wear thin and not at all worth her time being paired with him. She knew with a heavy heart that before now the humidity of the room and her need to excel it would have made her hair grow similarly to the sixth year, but he had somehow taken care of the more stressful parts of the potion. She at least owed him to finish it. "Nothing is going on with Malfoy!"

"Yet," Theo added with a laugh as he began stirring the potion, the liquid changing to lilac. "Well, I'd believe you if you weren't blushing like a naughty Gryffindor who has just been caught out." Slowly beginning to stir the potion the other way, his eyes flicking up to meets hers. "As promised, it's out little secret."

* * *

**November 15th, 1998**

Draco had managed to avoid Hermione for two weeks. They had shared the odd nod and occasional exchange of words, but he had gotten too close. He had felt too much, and he couldn't allow her to bewitch him any longer. He needed to keep his distance because it would not end well and he didn't exactly want to be burned by her, the only witch that could and had forgiven him. That was how he came to be playing Quidditch with Dean and Theo. The opportunity had risen, and he had snatched it with both hands like a greedy child.

"So..." Dean smirked as they walked down to the pitch, their brooms slung over their shoulders.

"We don't actually have to talk, Thomas," Draco muttered.

Theo, who stood on the Gryffindor's right, laughed, "ignore him...he gets a bit pissy around Gryffindors."

"Is that what the tension is with you and Hermione?" Dean asked as Draco looked at him quickly wishing to silence him with his eyes, but Theo had already heard, and he knew he was never going to hear the end of this. "What...am I missing something?"

With a cocky slap off his back, Theo cleared his throat, "Not at all, Thomas. I think you and I have just become best friends."

"I don't think I like this." Draco who was looking down at his feet smirked at the Gryffindor's response. "Someone want to fill me in?" Dean asked with wonder, the three of them reaching the entrance to the pitch as he hoped that he would be able to mount his broom and just fly off.

"Accio Malfoy's broom," Theo shouted. Before Draco could get a good grip, his broom was flying towards his friend, who caught it with precision. "Our good friend here wants to know what is going off with you and the girl you once hexed into a chipmunk...Don't we, Thomas?"

* * *

**November 16th, 1998**

Draco wasn't sure why he turned to look at the portrait door as it opened, a hopeful look on his face because somehow he knew it would be her and he also knew that nothing had changed. She looked as though she was considering going back through it and avoiding him as much as he had been avoiding her, a part of him wanted her to do that also, but he knew it wasn't right. He hadn't lost a war and swallowed his pride to spend the next seven months uncomfortable with one another.

"Hi."

Draco's mind had fired into gear, the little voice telling him just to say that he hadn't meant to hold her hand. If he had to lie to get her to be normal with him, if he had to conceal his true feelings just so that his heart would remain at an average pace, he would.

"Oh for Merlin and Salazar's sake, Granger," Draco hissed as he turned around back to his book. "You're safe; I won't ask anything of you. You don't even have to speak to me now that Potter and Weasel know that I am here. You can just, read by yourself and you can talk to me if and when you wish too. There are no... _requirements_ you need to fill with me."

He didn't hear anything, not even footsteps or her door shutting. He wanted to look over his shoulder and give into curiosity and see what she was doing if she was doing anything. The stubborn part of him made sure his head never moved, the longing part of him attempting to battle it and win.

"Is that what you think, that they dictate...  _I don't care_  what they think. I don't care if they hate you," she spoke, and he raised his head but still not turning to look at her until she began once more. "I was only coming to tell you." Her head looking down, her hair shielding her eyes as he held his breath and her hands clenched tightly around her bag, her fingers going white. "You know, I thought you were different now and now that you're the old you again, I'm not sure... I don't think I know how to be around you...Not this version of you."

It was like a cold slap, a horrid taste filling his mouth and a bitterness rising at her tone and words. This was him trying to be nice, but just like he had thought, he wasn't good enough. "You don't have to be around me at all, Granger. You have your own room, remember?"

The many feelings that he currently felt were overloading him, they were all beginning to wear thin, and he wasn't sure he could contain them. A part of him, a strong and dominant part of him, wanted to ask her why she had been forgiving and friendly to him in the first place. The other part wanted to avoid even looking at her face, not wanting to catch a glimpse of her lips and fall into the Niffler hole of what could be if he was a better man. She couldn't be around this part of him, so he didn't want her to be around him at all.

He heard her sigh, only imagining the hateful look on her face, "I guess you being  _kind_  happened to be a  _temporary_  thing then,  _what a surprise._ "

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

Hermione's face changed to look like she had just sucked on a rather unpleasant sweet, her lips pursing and her eyes narrowing as if something bitter was on her tongue. The atmosphere in the room had changed from pleasant to cold, the uncomfortable tension between them had changed to resentment and if he had known opening his mouth would have caused this; he would have remained silent and not ruined it all.

"What I mean, Malfoy," his eyes rolling at the emphasis on his surname. "Is that you seem to think that my friends, who apparently control me and tell me who to be friends with have a say in my life! Which, for the record, they don't! Secondly, you have avoided me like I am the plague and now, now that I am here you look at me as if I just skinned your familiar."

" _Well_ ," Draco snapped as he spun on his chair, meeting her eyes full of disappointment and the words catching in his throat, the torrid of words that he was going to say lost. "You said yourself you didn't know how to deal with  _this_  version of me, thought you'd like a bit of familiarity for once." His fingers were pinching his thigh in anger at the knowledge he couldn't hold his tongue; he couldn't just be quiet and not dig himself an even bigger hole.

Hermione shook her head, as her braid swung from her shoulder behind her back, "I guess you're right... how ridiculous to _think you could be different, how stupid of me to have faith in you_. I somehow assumed you'd grown up, that you were better than who you once was, but apparently, no one knows how to grow up anymore."

"Not everything ends in a fairytale, Granger," he added with a snarl. "Not everyone gets's saved by the right side."

He watched behind his mask as she walked over to her room, slamming the door behind her and he threw his head back in annoyance, the composed expression fading to show the disappointment he felt in himself and her.

" _Fuck_ ," he angrily hissed, throwing the quill that had been in his hands to the floor before running his fingers through his hair. "Fuck, fuck,  _shit_!"

His hand was running through his hair down the back of his neck, knowing already that no amount of excellent wine would fix this and that he had just undone all the work he had put in the first place. That if he did like her, which he wasn't even sure he did, he was even further away from feeling the softness of her lips once more. That he screwed up the one healthy and good relationship, he had currently going for him.

If he hated himself before, he loathed himself more now.

* * *

 **AN:**  The potion ingredients and brewing is taken from the film, just because I know it differs from the book slightly.  
_I am utterly blown away by the response this piece has had, and I don't think I can put into words how much I adore every single one of you. You all mean the world to me, every kudos, every review, favourite or follow. You make me want to keep going, for a writer like myself, that is everything. You make me something. Sorry for getting emosh ;)  
_ xoxo


	5. December

**AN:** Thank you to every single person for taking the time to read, sending you all the love in the world.

A special thank you to **Dramieylo** who is, not only a fan of this piece, but is also the beta. I can't put into words how much I adore you. 

* * *

This chapter is dedicated to  **Flightglow32** , who is bloody beautiful and has also written a fantastic piece called  **The Boggart**   _(read it or weep)_

* * *

**December**

* * *

**December 2nd, 1998**

Hermione had settled in the comfiest chair in their common room with the book that had been delivered that morning. It had been in the back of her mind the entire day, even during lessons and her ' _catch-up_ ' with Ginny - which really turned out to be a rant about the lack of effort Harry was putting in. She realised that in her new year without the prospect of death and re-reading three times the amount of essays; she had more time to enjoy the little things. Like good literature.

It would be hard to dampen that spirit. That was what she had thought up until the dark cloud named Draco Malfoy rolled in and sent the peaceful atmosphere into disarray. Their eyes met, the air between their gaze mixing and changing as if caught in a storm itself. She wanted to pull her jumper around her body as she felt a chill run through to her bones. It didn't break until he stormed off to his room, slamming the door for good measure.

She didn't even look at Theo. She didn't need to or want to, because, somehow this would be her fault. She had become outnumbered with the numbers of fans Malfoy had seemed to gain, and while usually, she'd be pleased he was changing, she actually resented it.

"Don't say a  _thing_."

Theo slumped into the armchair opposite her, " _I didn't_  even open my mouth."

"You thought. That's  _enough,_  plus, I am sure that whatever you're thinking will make me angry... I don't like being angry,  _Theodore_ " she retorted as she turned the page, still unwilling to look at him. "I'm not apologising."

"Again, didn't ask you to do anything,  _Hermione._ "

"Good," she huffed. Her eyes kept flicking up to look at him over the pages of her book as he watched her suspiciously. "What?" She said uneasily.

Theo shrugged, bringing his hands together as he intertwined his fingers, "I think you'll figure it out.  _Eventually._ "

Hermione huffed as she snuggled back into the chair, bringing the book up more to hide her face as she bit the inside of her mouth in frustration. Mind games were the worst kind of games, they made her doubt, and they made her worry. She felt compelled to break down each piece of what the Slytherin had said; she felt the need to decipher what, exactly, he thought she "needed to figure out", all the while knowing it was a trick, another useless game.

"You're  _Slytherin-ing_  me aren't you?" She snapped as she threw the book down on her lap. "Mind tricks,  _really_?"

Theo snorted, "Malfoy didn't lie. You really are wound up tighter than the Willow." She narrowed her eyes as she shook her head. "Look," Theo softened as he moved closer to the edge of the chair. "I don't know what fucked up friendship you two had, but all I know is that he didn't think he deserved a fraction of it. He doesn't even think he deserves to live. Now, I'm not telling you this as a pity parade because if he found out I even said this, I'd be dead."

Hermione's glare was softening as she sighed lowly at Theo's words. He doesn't even think he deserves to live.

"He was drinking himself stupid up until August, and then, he just stopped."  _August, August,_  she thought to herself as Theo rested his head in his hands. Her eyes were widening at the mere hint of that night. "He's an arse, he's a rude and pigheaded beast but, underneath, he protects what he cares about and Hermione, he cares about  _you_."

* * *

**December 12th, 1998**

The newspaper article on the snowy Saturday morning quickly became the talk of the school. The front page article that declared that the ' _Golden Trio_ ' would be giving an exclusive interview on the tales of the war - something that was so far from the truth that it made Hermione seethe. The many raw events that happened in the war would never be spoken of, something that at least she and Harry had agreed on.

"Have you seen Weasel in front of a camera?" Draco laughed as she began to feel annoyed, her eyes glaring over at him as he laughed richly to Theo. "He looks like a Hippogriff caught in a Lumos!"

The sound of laughter again made her slam the book closed. Draco was looking up and meeting the protective, menacing glare that was on her face as he swallowed hard, his hands suddenly rising to show that he had meant no harm. Hermione turned her glare to the Slytherin next to him, the one who was still laughing at the unfunny joke. "Something funny,  _Nott_?" Hermione hissed.

Theo wasn't as easily rattled by her, although his laughter did silence. He shuffled in his seat, painting an amused expression on his face as he folded his arms across his stomach, "yeah if I am totally honest, Granger." The dark haired Slytherin declared, "the idea of Ronald in front of a camera and how afraid Malfoy is of you."

The wooden chair that he was seated upon suddenly collapsed, her head turning quickly to meet the not-so-surprised look on Draco's face.

"You should be more careful,  _Theodore_ ," Draco teased as he looked at his nails as if examining them. "Chairs seem to be  _fickle things._ "

The amused look that was once on Theo's face had quickly been replaced with something venomous that appeared to be a birthright to be in Slytherin. She felt a sudden urge to thank him when she remembered that neither of them was speaking and she hid behind her book once more.

* * *

**FLASHBACK - August 5th, 1998**

"Oh, so Granger has a soft spot? A weakening, who would have thought that your parents would be your weak —"

Her forehead began to crease, a line appearing right between her brows that failed to put any ounce of fear in him.  _Did she not know that he had been up against the Dark Lord?_  That he had stood in the blood of men who had given their all to a dictator who, in the end, failed them. She was just a witch, one woman with a vendetta against him.  _Did she not know there was an army of witches and wizards all wishing for his skin to be peeled from his bones?_

"— Spot, something that makes her oh so human," Draco continued to tease, his usual sneer spread across his face.

Hermione took a step closer, bridging the small gap between them as her finger prodded into his chest. Her eyes were various shades of orange, amber maybe and he couldn't help but stare, unable to break from them as if they had put him under a spell.

"Stop!" She tried to hiss, but it came out more like a plea. Draco swallowed hard as he dropped his sneer slowly, watching as her eyes varied in size as she remained fixed on him as he was on her. "Please, Malfoy."

Draco nodded. It was an unfair battle to begin with, because she was clearly overly intoxicated if she was pleading with him. He was currently unscathed, normally she'd have hexed him - or if their third year was anything to go by she should have punched him - and she hadn't even started to really lay into him. He noticed that she didn't move from her proximity, her finger slowly sliding down his chest before turning into the air between them and her eyes shifted from his eyes to his lips, his heart beginning to race.

"Hermione," he whispered into the air, so afraid to mention her first name, but he needed to say something to break the tension, he had to try something. He hoped that the shock of her name on his lips would get her to take a step back, even though he knew he could do the same but he almost felt like he was glued in place. "Granger?" He spoke louder, and she blinked several times before registering that she had been staring. "I should walk you home," Draco said after clearing his throat, her nod giving him the permission he needed to move beside her.

Draco was only a step away when he felt her hand on his arm, turning him on the spot as she looped her other hand into the base of his neck into his hair. Her lips pressed against his gently as if unsure if he'd break from the touch. For the longest second, it was just the wind whirling, the two of them frozen in time and space as he felt his body fill with an emotion that he couldn't quite name. He didn't move, not that she expected him too, but from the hesitance in moving her lips, she wasn't exactly sure of what she should do either.

He didn't want her to let go; he didn't want the fire that was building inside of him to ever extinguish as he placed both hands on either side of her face, moving his lips more passionately against hers. It was minimal in the grand scheme of things, but it was plenty noticeable. It was soft but owning, and he felt a bubble in his stomach as her lips moved with his, like a tiny flutter of wings in his chest, and when he heard the softest, most beautiful moan in the back of her throat, she let go.

Draco couldn't quite breathe or speak, her eyes moving from his lips to his eyes. Hermione didn't want to say anything, out of fear it would make it real that she had just kissed him. He didn't want to let go of her in case it was a drunken hallucination, their eyes tracing the other as if they would find all the answers they needed.

"You kissed me..." He managed to mutter.

* * *

**December 24th, 1998**

"You should talk to her," Theo muttered as he sat beside him. "It is Christmas after all, the time for miracles and forgiveness."

Draco wanted to smirk, laugh or even sneer at the ridiculous proposition of him going over and talking to her. Anything that put distance between him and this situation. He wanted nothing more than to go over and fix whatever he could, but they would never be two people that would grow up as friends or anything more. He was fucked up, he was broken beyond repair and nothing, not ever, could make what he was beautiful. He was a disaster; he was a spot on the earth left for amusement to the creator.

"It's your funeral," Theo added bitterly.

"I'm sick of hurting people," Draco whispered so softly it was barely heard. If he was a normal human he was sure a tear might have even escaped at the confession, it seemed fitting; it was the most honest thing he had admitted out loud in the longest time.

Theo looked at him as if he had spoken another language if what he had said held no weight when in fact it was the heaviest thing he had ever said. He could see it now, how disappointing he was. He had once been a boy who helped a girl up from the ground when she had scraped her knee, and then he became a man who would push them down and who thought he was King. Now he was a man who desperately wished to be the boy he had once been. Boy 2.0 he smirked to himself and gained a confused look from his friend.

"I feel guilty all the damn time."

"Are you... Are you drunk?" Theo asked, raising his hand and placing the back of his hand against his forehead. "Under Veritaserum? I am sure the last time you was this truthful was when we were six, and you smashed that large Urn my father adored."

Draco felt a small smile begin to burn in the corner of his mouth, "I have a hole inside of me," he said turning to meet a worried look on the Slytherin's face as he tried to look him in the eyes. "My soul is forever broken, shards of glass and all of that fuckery. But, she... She is pure, Theo. She is...  _Golden_ ," he laughed at the pun, shaking his head in disbelief he was saying all of this. "I want to make it right, I do. But the next day, I'll break it again... What is the point?"

"Do you want to tell me what the fuck is going on?"

He turned his attention to her sat in the chair, a quiet laugh emerging from him that turned more manic by the second, "nothing... nothing. It is what makes it all so ironic," Draco smiled. "Tomorrow she'll open a present from me, a mint condition first edition of Hogwarts: A History. She will read my pathetic attempt at an apology and, nothing will change. I will always be the one who pushes her over; she will always be the one who hates me." Draco sighed as he slowly stood up from the armchair, "fate cannot change just because I want it to."

* * *

**FLASHBACK - August 5th, 1998**

Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to steady her legs as she turned her head from his grip, "I did."

"Why?" Draco asked. Her lips were slowly parting to speak as she saw him swallow, a vein in his neck beginning to come up to the surface as his cheeks started to pink. "Why, did you kiss me, Granger?" The words she wanted to say were trapped inside of her throat, her tongue almost held in place to the bottom of her mouth and her chest was becoming tighter and tighter. The lack of an answer was making, what had first been the shock in his eyes, turn cold. She could almost taste the anger radiating from him, the warm summer night suddenly becoming cooler. "Thought it be fun did you? Have something to laugh at, knowing that no one else would now that I'm a marked man with a public record?"

"No!" She declared. "I... I didn't think, I just —"

"— I don't buy your innocence, Granger," he hissed with ice filled eyes that she thought could freeze her. "I don't buy any of it. So, cut the bullshit and start walking. I may feel compelled to walk you home, but I don't want to or have to be nice to you while doing it."

They had barely reached the end of the road, she knew that they couldn't risk apparition just yet but hated the silence all the same. She wanted to tell him that she was drunk, that she had lunged for him purely out of rage and a need to silence him. Hermione knew this was a lie. She knew that she had lunged at him from a mix of curiosity and passion that had formed in her stomach, growing, taking over with an impulsive need paired with impulsive action stemming from her overpowering Gryffindor traits. She hated that he challenged her, that he didn't back down, but it also empowered her. It was why she had approached him, she had goaded him into verbal sparring, and while they had fought, it was nothing like it ever had been.

He wasn't the same. She wasn't the same.

Hermione had watched through the thick glass at the Ministry as he sobbed when confessing his involvements, she remembered the pain that she struggled to swallow as they pushed him and pushed him for more. She willed herself to hate him, but she couldn't, even when she had the perfect chance and every reason to. She watched the former bully be broken into shards of his former self and even now, back at Hogwarts when he had the chance to avenge himself by resuming his role as her personal Boggart, he was actually nicer, kinder that he ever had been. That could also be the alcohol talking, she wondered while looking at his eyes knowing what she needed to say.

"Malfoy?"

"Oh for the love of... What, _Granger?_ " Draco snarled spinning on his heel. "What? What does your bossy,  _know-it-all tongue_  want to say now?"

Hermione opened her mouth, wanting to say that she once hated him more than anything, but that she didn't anymore, and she didn't know why. That he should be horrible, awful even, but he wasn't, and she wanted to know why! That the alcohol had clouded her judgement but somewhere deep down she knew he wasn't bad. All these words forming in a mess on the end of her tongue, unable to spit them out.

"Granger?!" He hissed impatiently and she bent over quickly, throwing her guts up over his feet and even in the midst of her retching, she heard him hiss in disgust, but she also felt his hands gently drawing her curls up and away from her face.

* * *

**December 31st, 1998**

He had slammed his glass down before Dean had even finished his teasing about his lack of love life, stalking quickly out of the common room and out through the portrait into the darkness of the castle. New Year had been just the four of them, the others having slowly integrated back into their own houses as they couldn't stand to be around Malfoy, a poor excuse if she had heard one. It had been Theo's unruly idea to involve alcohol, something that Draco was set against with a glint in his eyes that she knew was intended for her.

She contemplated for a second or two, not knowing whether even to follow him. After all, he could want to be alone. It was only when she caught Theo's eye that she knew she must, finishing the remainder of her glass as she placed it beside Draco's and slowly followed after him.

She didn't know what to expect as she stepped out into the breezy castle, pulling her robe around her as she saw him leaning against the wall with his head tilted back, the moonlight from the window capturing him perfectly. Hermione had never noticed how chiselled his cheekbones were until this moment, how white his hair was and how handsome he could be when he wasn't snarling or smirking. The longing look she was given him had evidently awakened him to her presence as Draco growled loudly, making her jump. Hermione looked at him alarmed as he ran his hand ferociously through his hair. He looked as if he was having a breakdown, one step away from pulling at the bright blond locks from his pale scalp.

"Do you even know how frustrating you are?"

"Me?"

"Yes, you!" Draco snarled as he pulled his palm down his face. "I don't know what you want."

"I don't want  _anything_ ," she innocently declared as he scoffed and her hands moved to her hips. "What does this," Hermione imitated his scoff rather poorly, "even mean?"

"It means that I don't believe you. It means that I have no idea what I am supposed to be doing or how to make something right because I have never, ever, cared what you thought before and it's unnerving now that I do."

Hermione who had become a little uncomfortable at the confession straightened her back and adjusted her jumper. "You could just say  _sorry_ ," she mumbled, avoiding his eyes. "It's what  _regular_  people do."

"But it wouldn't be  _enough_."

Her foot began to trace a circle on the stone floor, both of them avoiding the other. "You don't know that, Draco. You don't even try."

"I do! It's easy for you. Trying is... second nature to  _Gryffindor's_."

"For me?" Hermione retorted, bristling at his anger once more. "What even makes that assumption come up like anything is easy —"

"— For one. You can actually go and apologise and seem like you mean it. People want to be your friend, Hermione. People gravitate to you and you; you make things right. Secondly, no one will ever be good enough for you! Friend or more. It is the complete opposite for me."

"— What?" Hermione muttered in confusion.

Draco was not listening, continuing on his rant, "— I won't ever be worthy," Hermione's mouth falling open a little as she saw his eyes filling with frustrated tears. "I didn't stand a chance at being a good person. I tried to be friends with Potter, but one snort from your weasel ended that before it even began. I'm not perfect; I'm not a good guy, Granger. But I was never meant to be one, either. I'm just a man, who was a boy, who believed the lies of evil men and acted on it. I made mistakes and I will continue to make them and this, this is as good as an apology I can muster because sorry will never cut it!"

"Draco..." she whispered.

"There will never be a word that I can say that will you comfortable around me. There won't ever be a word that can take back all the horrid things I did and, even if there was it wouldn't fix  _everything,_ " Draco said, with eyes full of so much sadness Hermione was sure her heart broke. "I'm always going to fuck up, Granger. It's in my blood. It is who I am. For years, Malfoy's have done unruly, horrible and unforgivable things to get ahead and get shit done... It's who I am and you are someone that for years that —"

"— That Malfoy's have hated?" Hermione finished with a soft smile, his head nodding as she sighed.

Draco swallowed louder this time, making a point to meet her gaze, "I won't say that I never disliked you, because a childish version of me did. For a long time, I haven't... Motions and familiarity have forced my hand and, that is why I won't ever be good enough to be your friend. I'm a coward, and I'm okay with that part of myself."

She took a step closer, the sound of cheers on the other side of the door signalling the New Year. "New Year, new you. A second chance, a real... second chance to make a fresh start for yourself. You have no one here to act up to, no one to pretend for, I'm here and so are you."

Draco looked at her with little hope and little belief, her hand slipping into his and his eyes widened at the contact as she tried to ignore the electricity between them. No one would understand, but she was okay with that because even she didn't. Her heart had never been so sure of what was wrong for her before her lips had felt his, a scary thought but a truthful one.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and you are?"

He slowly smiled as he squeezed her hand back, "I'm a pure blooded prick —"

"—  _Malfoy!_ " She groaned.

He sighed closing his eyes, breathing in once more before letting it out between his teeth and dousing her in the silver of his eyes once more. "I'm Draco Malfoy, and I think, that I might care about you... and it scares the fucking shit out of me."

* * *

**AN:** _For those who wanted a Christmas kiss (_ teehee) _. For those who know me well enough to know that I am unconventional, high five. I hope you are enjoying this as much as I am writing. Dramione is not a pairing I like to write, more because I don't ever wish to let anyone down but you have all been far too kind and amazing that it makes me never want to end this._


	6. January

**AN:** Apologies for the delayed update. I have had a stressful week, and while most of this story is planned out, my muse and I had a little disagreement.

 **Big thanks to the wonders that are** **SaintDionysus & Dramieylo.** **Without them, this would have all fallen apart**

* * *

**January 4th, 1999**

* * *

Lessons resumed on the first Monday of January with the snow still blanketing the grounds of the castle. Hermione had never been one for long walks in the cold, but she had felt compelled when Draco had invited her on New Year's Day. For the most part, they walked in odd silences and forced conversations about their childhoods until they settled on a healthy conversation about their favourite fictions. From this, it was hardly surprising when she opened her dormitory door to a wrapped up oblong package. Once she checked it for curses and jinxes and found it safe, she opened it to reveal the latest edition of Little Witch by the Lake, a series that had been a favourite of hers since their first year.

Hermione caught him waiting in the common room; his head bent as he leant against the back of the sofa all alone. To some, he would have looked shifty, but she had come to know this particular look on him as 'uncomfortable and awkward'. "Draco," she greeted, his deep silver eyes entrancing her as they looked up and she had to make sure she took a breath out of fear of drowning in them. "The book, it is too much."

"It was just lying about," Draco responded as he stood up straight, flattening out his robes as if she was someone highly significant. Hermione contemplated for a second how a book of this nature was simply lying around, not wishing to tease him with a comment as she watched him fidget with his hands. "I wondered if you had no other plans that is," his hand running through his hair, shifting his weight from side to side. "If you would like me to walk you to breakfast?" The ending much more confident than the beginning.

Hermione bit back a blush, not sure if this was out of the ordinary because the two men she had been surrounded by were descendants of pigs or if this was because it was him. "I think I would like that, unless," her voice trailed off as he looked at her with a frown. "What... does escorting mean in the wizarding world?"

Draco laughed softly, his hand rubbing his mouth as she assumed he was hiding a smirk, "in the wizarding world, Hermione. It means that I am walking with you to breakfast." She nodded, a little disappointed much to her surprise. "Unless you wish it meant something more?"

Hermione's breath caught in her throat; she felt her heart suddenly quickening as she stared into his eyes, "I think an escort will be enough for today," she lied as she hid it with a smile, not wanting to ruin the place they had worked so hard to get to.

* * *

**January 16th, 1999**

Draco had never before struggled with Ancient Runes. He had been called a natural in his earlier years, but it seemed that his year spent plotting murder had made him fall behind and the simplest translations baffled him. The lesson on Friday afternoon had irked him so much that he felt compelled to ask for help from Hermione. It wasn't that he disliked asking her, it was the principle of asking for help, from anyone, even someone he had begun to see as a friend. She hadn't rubbed it in his face as much as he had expected but it had still left a bitter taste in his mouth, one that no amount of gloating over his skills in other lessons or on a broom got rid off.

"You need to get drunk," Theo suggested, apparently tired of his moaning. Draco looked at him lording over the armchair, throwing up a rolled up pair of socks and catching them. "I mean, you know...  _blindingly drunk._  You have lowered inhibitions then, which is always entertaining and maybe you can just tell her how you feel."

Draco growled lowly, swishing his wand as his clothes began to fold themselves into the drawers and his outer robes hung themselves on the coat hangers in the wardrobe. "Anyone would think you are friends with me because of my entertainment value."

Theo shrugged, "more for your stupidity. Oh, your money is also quite tempting."

"You are rich yourself," Draco added as he stole the socks from his gripped hand. "I mean you own a house now, a mansion if we are going to be pedantic."

Theo shuddered, any reminder of his responsibilities outside of the castle seemed to do that now. At first, Draco had been a little worried, wanting to ensure that his friend was okay but even with his newfound ease with emotions he didn't fancy getting emotional with Theo. It was the exact reason why he took Theo up on his offer to get drunk and making it of the utmost importance to invite Dean and Hermione.

He would have even gone as far as to invite the Hufflepuffs but they had recently taken a greater dislike to him when he had ratted one of them out for cursing him with a  _Leg-Locking hex_  on the way to class and it had caused him to break his nose. He would have much preferred that over the  _Ton-Tongue toffee_  in his breakfast muffin, it had taken Madame Pomfrey several charms to reduce his tongue to its normal size but it had remained purple for several days. He had finally given in and stormed into Professor McGonagall's office when he had to deflect an attack in the bathroom, having only wished to urinate between classes.

The sun had barely set when the alcohol had begun to take effect, Hermione laughing richer than he had ever heard and unfazed when his hand grazed her leg as he stretched out over his thighs. His head had been thrown back in laughter at the same time, thankful because otherwise, he would have caught the two smirks written across Theo and Dean's face.

"Alright  _Mr Pureblood,_ " Theo teased, rolling his eyes. "Mr Fancy Wiltshire man."

"Ok, let me get one thing straight, my family live in Wiltshire," Draco drunkenly muttered. His goblet spilling as Dean near wet himself with laughter. "I, happen to :hiccup: live, in the  _moment_."

"Your family... live in mansions," Hermione snorted. Draco turned his head to look at her, even if she was a little blurrier than normal as she threw a rolled up piece of parchment into the fireplace, her eyes watching it burn with a smile.

"Too right," Theo added as Dean high-fived her and he snarled. Hermione's eyes broke away from the fire to look at him as a smile passed over her lips, his hand steadying the goblet to his chest as he returned it.

His attention was only taken from her when he felt Dean's hand on his head, looking up to see him struggling to stand which was for all intents, hilarious. "To family," Dean shouted. "Wherever it be and whomever it is," the four of them raising their glasses to their lips when he spoke again. "Oh, and to new friends," Dean said as he patted Draco's head, not noticing the glare on his face. "And to Hermione finally admitting that she -"

"- Cheers!" Hermione interrupted, cheeks blushing brightly as Dean was pulled back to the sofa by Theo. Draco completely confused as to what had just gone down, sipping down the liquid as he thought but quickly lost the trail and somehow began to think of unicorns.

* * *

**January 20th, 1999**

Hermione had found her eyes wandering over to the blond more often than ever, his features seeming more alarmingly beautiful than before. She had become distracted by him, her mind wandering in the middle of important lessons and none of this was helped when she began tutoring him. It had been so bad that she felt compelled to speak to Ginny, not ever wishing to have to start a conversation about boys with her, mainly because her excitement bubbled out and Hermione became, to her horror, a girly girl.

She had faked her reasons for entering Gryffindor Tower, making the excuse that she simply missed her, but Hermione forgot who she was talking to and was immediately stolen and taken upstairs to her old room. She couldn't help but trail her fingers over the wood of the four-poster bed, her fingers feeling the curtains that she had so often charmed, so she didn't have to hear the girly whispers of Lavender discussing Ron and to hide the screams from her nightmares from the Ministry attack in her fifth year.

"You fancy Malfoy."

Hermione hadn't even opened her mouth, not even asked if her friend was okay or how she was finding their seventh year. It took her by surprise so much that she began to laugh in panic, shaking her head to attempt to deny it, her chest tightening as she struggled to laugh and breathe at the same time. Ginny's brown eyes came into view, her hands on her shoulders and she could hear her voice soothing her, pulling her out from whatever laughter attack she was having.

"Hermione, breathe for me... Hermi-one," Ginny cooed.

The world began to come into view, unsure when it had started to unfocus. Hermione's breathing seemed to mirror the one that Ginny was pretending to do, and she felt her whole body soothe as if she had been charmed with a relaxant.

"Hermione?"

She stared at her friend, her lip beginning to tremble as she lost her confidence, her courage.

Ginny dropped one hand and put it on her hip, reminding the older girl so much of Molly Weasley. "Hermione, speak before I go find him and ask him if you've shagged him yet."

"I like him," Hermione muttered, not willing to look her friend in the eye. "I like him and... I don't know what to do about it."

She turned on her heel, torn between running out of the dormitory and down the stairs and locking herself in her room until the end of term. Instead, she turned and sat on a bed that she didn't know, dropping her head low as her fingers massaged through her hair and her elbows made contact with her thighs. Hermione almost forgot that she was with Ginny, the smells of the familiarity of her old home was swarming her and giving her flashbacks of years long gone by. It was only as the weight of the mattress changed, and she felt a hand on her back that she returned to the present.

"You feel guilty that you like him when he used to be a git, right?" Ginny asked, her fingers running in circles on her back. "Godric, I wish Luna had come back. She would know exactly what to say, either that or something to break the tension," as the two women laughed, both thinking of Nargles. "The heart wants what the heart wants, right? You told me that in your second year when I was  _in love with Harry_."

Hermione lifted her head, "but you and Harry were meant to be together."

Ginny shrugged as she dropped her hand from her back, "maybe, deep down, you were meant to be with an arrogant ferret who would challenge you every damn day and put you in an early grave," the red head laughed as Hermione chuckled. "Or, you were both each other's chance at happiness, but you just had a longer road to go down."

A pale hand brushed back her hair, her eyes meeting her friends as she thought of her brother. Thought of all the other Weasleys and how they had all teased her about marrying Ron, even if the idea made her shudder because he was so like family it seemed like incest. She thought of telling them she liked Draco, she thought of them hating her and the offensive words they could say to her.

As if reading her mind, Ginny spoke again, "no one would ever hate you. I think the tosser is actually a sound bloke; he helped me in potions remember? I definitely would have caused a cauldron explosion." Hermione smirked as she sniffed back tears she hadn't known were building. "He won't shower you with compliments; he probably won't have a loving family that will swarm you with pumpkin pies. But! He'd love you like his life depended on it, I can tell."

"How?" Hermione mumbled.

Ginny shrugged, "best friend instincts and the fact that Malfoy sent Harry an owl asking him if they could start fresh. That's like poetry if I say so myself."

It could have been the pressure that had fallen from her shoulders or that she had spent a bit of time in a familiar place with someone she loved, but Hermione laughed harder than she had laughed in ages. She cried tears of happiness instead of sadness, her face lit up and expelled a brightness that had disappeared for such a long time she hadn't known her cheeks could get that hot. While some would say it was the Ginny Weasley effect, Hermione knew that it was more to do with a blond than a red haired witch.

* * *

**January 24th, 1999**

"Do you want to come watch real men play Quidditch, Granger?"

Hermione placed her book down on her lap as she met the grey eyes that were burning into her, half wishing that she hadn't shared what she had been up to all summer because the jibes at Ron playing Quidditch had been non-stop since.

"She won't come," her surprise at Dean as he laughed. "What? You won't; you hate Quidditch!"

"I'm starting to hate you, Dean!" She retorted as he laughed, moving closer to Draco and Theo with his broom. "So what, you guys are going to go play Quidditch with no other team?"

Draco looked at her mockingly, as if he had expected her to say something along those lines and she had now allowed him to spew the rehearsed speech he had come up with. "Actually Granger. We are playing a couple of seventh years, one of them being your good friend Ginevra."

Panic seemed to spread through Hermione as if someone had emptied a bucket of water over her head, immediately standing and dropping her book to the floor to the surprise of the three men. Theo moved quicker than the others, picking it up and holding her arm with the other.

"You feel alright Hermione?" Theo asked, half full of concern and half full of mockery. "You just hurt a book."

Hermione took the book from his hand, swiping him with it as it connected with his shoulder. Her mind was elsewhere, however, plotting and theorising the best way she could get herself out of this situation or how she could silence Ginny without giving too much away to the others. It crossed her mind at the last second that she could always curse Draco, just a little one to injure but not severely. It would be enough to prevent him from playing but not to keep him in the hospital overnight, or scar him; she definitely didn't want him anymore scarred than he already was. Her cheeks flushed brightly as she thought of the scars he had, thinking of her fingers and tongue tracing them, wondering where they would lead her too. Her breath hitched as she thought of the figure underneath the robes, the one she had committed to memory and thought of when all alone.

"Granger?"

"I'll come," she announced, her tone high pitched and squeaky. "Of course, fresh air."

Draco looked at her as if she was drunk, looking to the others before staring at her, "it's snowing?"

"Brilliant. Excellent, beautiful," Hermione lied fiercely with a smile. "I love the snow."

"If I remember correctly, you said it was the devil's weather." Draco laughed, and her cheeks burnt stronger, "but if you really wish to come." His hand was rising to unwrap his scarf from around his neck and giving it to her, "you must wrap up. I don't want your pretty little face to get frostbite now."

Draco was grabbing his broom as he patted Dean on the shoulder and pushed Theo towards the door, her mouth open as she tried to accept that he had called her 'pretty' and attempted to swallow the instinct to grab him and ask him if he meant it. That was crazy after all; she didn't want him to think she was crazy.

"Granger?" Draco called as she blinked, looking over to the door that he had propped open with a smile that seemed to turn her into a puddle. "You coming?"

Hermione nodded for what felt like an eternity, unsure why her voice had gone, and she had turned into a girl she resented. "Most definitely."

* * *

**January 28th, 1999**

Her sudden strange behaviour had him on edge, unsure if he had done something to cause it or if he had been coming on a little strong. It hadn't been his initial thought to make sure that he was always around her, he was just drawn to her. Hermione was a permanent thought in his mind, but he wanted to do it right, he wanted to be a gentleman and take it slow.

At first, Draco had been insistent that he stood no chance of being with her. Then, New Year happened, and he had this warped idea that he could, that he might be able to show her that he had changed and taken the second chance firmly in his hands. He could admit that Hermione Granger, the girl he once bullied to tears, was a girl Draco could not have imagined himself pining for but then he had also never thought he'd be alive. He thought of her lips against his, the way he tasted the mulled wine on her and the smell of honey from her skin. He craved the softness of her hand in his and the burning feeling she conjured in him, healing him and making him feel like he was unstoppable.

If that wasn't something, colour him idiotic.

Draco wanted nothing more than to go up to her, ask her if she liked him and would just take the answer whatever he got. As soon as he was in front of her, he found he was drawn in and falling apart at the colour of her eyes. He would watch the gold swirl as they widened at seeing him and his nerves prickling with excitement, he would panic. Words would struggle to formulate, and he would stand there like a blubbering Hufflepuff unable to come up with whatever reason he had to stand in front of her.

He was almost ashamed he was a Slytherin.

That was until he had her by his side, the two walking down to the Quidditch pitch after he had dared her to ride with him - something that he had been plotting since she spent the day watching him fly - knowing the intimacy it would bring. Whatever confidence he seemed to lose hadn't faded this time, laughing as she began to panic at the idea of getting on his broom.

"It's yours, though," she tried to say.

" _So_?"

"Isn't that a personal thing? To share a broom."

"It isn't a toothbrush, Granger. It's a  _broom_."

He guided her closer to the broom, watching her look fearful and while he revelled in the thought for a moment, seeing it develop was all too much for him to bear. With an instinct he couldn't ignore, he raised her chin with two fingers, staring into her frightened eyes. She swallowed he looked at her with all he had. Wishing, hoping that his eyes would tell her what his heart wanted him too, his brain arguing with itself over the level of his feelings when his heart was hammering hard against his chest.

"You don't have to get on the broom," Draco whispered. "I don't want you to be scared around me."

Hermione looked at him, not moving her chin from resting on his fingers, "I'm terrified around you," she replied without much thought, fear corroding through him as every doubt flooded to the surface. "I'm terrified that I'll be unable to control myself," she added, and her eyes were staring straight into his with determination as if given a new lease on life.

"Hermione," he breathed. She grasped his arm, gently pulling it aside and leaving his fingers hanging in the air next to her face

"Draco," she smiled, taking a step closer towards him as the wind wrapped around them. He felt her hand take his from the air and wrap her fingers around it. "I think that..."

Her voice trailed off as an owl swooped down beside them, hovering in the air and for at least a second he hadn't followed her eyes. Just staring at her, the way her cheekbones arch and her eyebrows had lifted. He had felt a strong impulse to capture her lips, but it was fading as he turned his head, recognising the bird flapping beside him.

"Draco," she repeated but without as much breath in it.

His hand was reaching out to unhook the letter from the owl's leg, looking at the seal as he frowned before unpeeling it from the paper and sliding the letter from its material. The loops and swirls of the writing stood out before he even read a word, the way his stomach had dropped to his feet had already told him everything he needed to know.

"My father," he muttered as Hermione gripped his arm tighter. He was unsure when she had let go of his hand until he realised that he was now holding the letter with both hands, thinking of the last time he had seen the man he had once looked up to.

Horrid thoughts were springing to his mind. The broken person sat in the chair in the corner of his office, staring blankly as he knocked. Lucius Malfoy had always been so strong, seemingly unbreakable and the man who could launch a thousand brooms. All the memories Draco now had of him were exactly that, broken and fragmented; good memories longed turned to ash. Draco could remember clear as a summer's day when his father was dragged to Azkaban, the pleading eyes that he couldn't break from, his arms gripping around his sobbing mother and the hate he felt for him that he had caused them all so much pain.

"He died. My father, he's... dead," Draco said. His head was slowly rising to meet her gaze. "Dead," he said again as if he was trying to swallow it and make it seem real. His bottom lip was suddenly trembling as he stumbled, her arms catching him as he gripped her tightly. "Granger, my father is  _dead_."

* * *

 **AN:** Your reviews are amazing! Thank you so much, I can't believe how kind you all are. As said above it wouldn't be this good without my amazing beta's, they are incredible.

Come chat to me over on tumblr, PierreJ92. 

_This piece will be updated each Friday just FYI._

**xox**


	7. February

**AN:**  A warning that in the next chapter will have sexual themes (aka Smut). It is the first time I have included it in a fic, but I feel confident in my writing to put it in. I will include at the beginning of the chapter which date it is in and that way any who wish to move past it can do so. I hope this is all okay!

**Beta Love:**  The wind beneath these wings, SaintDionysus & Dramieylo, this would all be a mess without them.

* * *

**February**

* * *

**February 1st, 1999**

Closing the door to his room behind him, the coldness and solitude hit him much harder than he thought. Draco had been excused from lessons for a grieving period, yet he had still attempted to go to Transfiguration until the protests of his fellow eighth years convinced him to go back to bed. His eyes gazed out of the window, the sun twinkling in the distance as if it knew the world was a little cleaner with his father gone. He wasn't sure if he preferred the vast landscape to look at or wished for the murky waters of the lake with his current feelings. He knew that he should go home, check on his mother and begin to take over the estate as would be expected from him but it didn't appeal to him. He would still feel the darkness in the walls, he'd hear echoes of the screams absorbed into the tapestries and he would still see the scarlet stains of blood in his floorboards.

Draco just hoped that his mother would want to sell now that her husband had passed, knowing it was only his father's protests and adamant tone that stopped them from torching it to the ground before he was imprisoned. He had whispered Incendio one evening, watching the flames lick up the curled wallpaper of the drawing room, needing to rid Granger's accusing eyes and pained screams from the room. He had watched as the flames mixed with his bottles of whisky, placidly observing as they danced and licked up the building until his mother had stormed in, fury in her eyes as she doused them and still allowed the horror to remain.

That was why he had come here and never wanted to go back. This was his life now and this was his chance to undo the wrongs in a way. Not that he could ever completely overwrite them but it was a chance to make something of himself, he had, after all, squandered his entire sixth year fixated on the threats of Voldemort if he didn't commit murder and the guilt he carried throughout seventh year for the pain he caused in his attempt to protect his family.

Not that his father ever appreciated it, not that he even batted an eye for what Draco had to do to his soul.

His eyes cast down to his hand, staring at the silver ring with the engraved 'M' upon it. It had been something he had always wished for, ever since he had first admired it upon his father's finger. Even the day that he had been given it he was sure wasn't real, waiting for the moment it would be taken from him, but it never was. He remembered the last time he saw his father, his hand holding him firmly with a burning gaze fixed on him.

_"Never think I am not proud of you son," his father had whispered. "You're the man of the house now, not that you haven't always been."_

His hand raised to press against his temple, closing his eyes as he scraped his fingers over his scalp, hoping, wishing for the voice to go. Half thinking that he shouldn't have opened the figurative box in his mind at all, that no good could come from thinking about him right now.

_"We love you, both of us," his mother had said as he packed his trunk, looking over his shoulder to see her stood in the doorway, thinner, paler and more grey than he had ever known. She was lonely, and he knew she wanted him to stay but understood why he couldn't. "One day, you'll understand and…" his mother looking down, knowing that his father was firmly in her mind. "We both love you."_

Lying back as he met the sheets, his eyes opening as he stared up at the ceiling, the image of them in his doorway at the Manor fading into the ceiling. The pain of former ghosts and former wishes strangling him, making him anxious. Draco wondered why he had bothered to come here, to confront the parts of himself that he hated, wondering if it was worth it, even if he knew the answer that it wasn't. His hands raised to his temple, his fingers pattering along his forehead as he attempted to calm himself as he felt the blood under his skin had begun to boil. His eyes were trailing the stone ceiling, admiring each crack in them, looking at each one as if it was individual it's own way.

Draco knew that he wouldn't be able to sleep, missing the freedom of the Manor when he felt like this because at least there he could walk freely without disturbance. He could wander out into the large grounds and breathe real air, find some peace even if it was just for a second. He didn't feel right here; he felt the shame sit on his shoulders heavier than it had at home, he felt the disgust linger in his bones with each second he had been outside of the castle remembering those that had fallen outside along the grass, never to get up again.

He wanted her to be here. He needed her to be here.

Even with that being thought of, Draco didn't want to appear weak; he kept his body rigid against the sheets hoping that eventually, he'd be able to let go of the betrayal and anger his father's death had left behind.

* * *

**February 13th, 1999**

Hermione had spent most of her day distracted. At first, she had been thankful that the funeral had fallen on the weekend so she could escape to Hogsmeade but that had faded quickly. Harry had become interested in her life all of a sudden, and she had a sneaking suspicion that it had something to do with Ginny. Ron, as always, was oblivious. His eyes following any and every woman that had walked past, at the ready to brag that he was close to becoming an Auror and tell them stories of the war.

It was a relief when she finally settled into the armchair in front of the fire, her fingers nervously picking out the least dangerous colours of Bertie Bott's Beans as her eyes flicked from the book on her lap to the door.

"You waited up," her brown eyes darted up to meet grey. She found he had dark circles under his eyes and a paler complexion than normal. "You didn't need to."

"I… wanted to make sure you were okay."

Draco smirked but she could tell he was a little broken, his confidence faded. "I wasn't hexed dead if that was your concern."

"Your sarcasm is still intact, even after a funeral?" She teased.

He slid his scarf from around his neck, looking up at her with a disquieting mix of hostility and need. His eyes seemed to pull her in, making all sense and logic float out of her and disappear into thin air. She was sure that a blizzard could go on between them, people could tear them from each other, and she'd still latch onto his eyes, she would find him like a compass finds true north every time.

"I meant what I said," Hermione blurted out. "At the pitch."

Draco smiled, turning his face away from her as he walked over to the fireplace and leant against it. The tension was hard to bear, it was suffocating her and she suddenly felt exposed as if she was naked in front of him. Fear had never been something she chose to give into, but right now, she wanted nothing more than to run from the common room and hide in her bedroom.

Then, as if someone had flicked a switch inside of her, an anger that she hadn't felt since fifth year came up inside of her all wild and untamable. Her hand moving for her wand in her robe, not sure she needed to grip it but the spell 'Confringo' was on the tip of her tongue.

"Granger," he sighed.

"Just forget it," Hermione spat out. She had already felt too much embarrassment and she didn't need him to tell her that there was nothing here, that she was everything she always was. That he still saw her as lower than him, that he could be her friend but not anything more.

"You don't understand," Draco said, turning on his heels to face her.

"I think I understand perfectly," she snarled. Her hand tightening on her wand, "I am good enough to be your friend, but anything more is barbaric, right? That no matter how far I think you've come, you will still look at me like  _I'm_ dirty, _like I am filthy_  -"

"- You have the complete wrong end of the wand -" He tried to say over the top of her but she was already on a roll, her tongue was already firing words at him.

"- As if I could ever be anything more, right? I will always be -"

He crossed the room in two strides, his hands gripping her shoulders as he forced her to look up at him, his brows raised as he stared so intensely at her that it made her silent. It made the words stop forming and just fall into the air.

"If you even continue that ridiculous tirade of a rant I will shake you. Girl or not," Draco said calmly. "Secondly, today was an extremely challenging day, I buried my father and even if I despised the man, he was still my father and I loved him too, if that makes any sense at all."

Guilt suddenly washed over her, her eyes unable to break from his and she could feel a coolness flowing down over her skin.

"Thirdly," he smirked, dipping his head and she felt his mouth on hers before she could brace herself.

His lips captured hers more passionately with the next movement and without knowing she had tensed, she relaxed at his touch. His hand moved from her shoulder up into the back of her hair, a soft moan escaping her lips that she hadn't known was brewing and she was sure she was going to turn into a puddle, unsure if his grip on her would keep her up straight.

Her heart was pumping furiously in her chest; her hands were grasping as his shirt wanting and needing to touch him, to run her fingers down that chest and abdomen she had been dreaming about since seeing him shirtless.

Their lips broke for a fraction as he looked at her full of alarm, apparently worrying that she was regretting this when she smiled and watched his features relax. "Happy Valentines," she whispered.

"I never thought I'd say this," Draco said, moving his fingers up her shirt to hold her hips. His thumb was running over her skin sending shivers up her spine. "You're wrong; Valentine's is  _tomorrow._ "

"I thought you might want to forget today," she breathed as she lifted onto her tip-toes. Slowly pressing her lips against his, feeling the uncontrollable fire within when he kissed her deeper, taking all her thoughts with it.

* * *

**FLASHBACK August 5th, 1998**

"You could help yourself here, Granger," he snarled, his arm hooked around her waist as she stumbled beside him. "I mean, you owe me after assaulting my mouth."

"I  _didn't_  mouth the assault" she slurred.

Draco shook his head, gripping her tighter as the two struggled down the street. He was just thankful that he drank around the corner of his parent's townhouse, carrying the witch all the way through the city of London until he found someone, anyone willing to take her home was going to be a nightmare. Not that she wasn't an impossible nightmare.

"You definitely did not," he teased. "However, you did launch yourself at me. I do not deny that I am handsome, Granger," her scoff interrupting him as he growled, tugging her as she groaned at the harsh movement. "However I thought you would be able to show some restraint, or has the golden trio lost all manners."

He heard something along the line of 'shut up' but he couldn't be sure as he continued to drag her along with him, the sound of passing cars drowning out her grunts. He had hoped to get rid of her far quicker than this, having to lean temporarily up against the wall and leaning her beside him like a prop.

"I'm clever you think," Hermione snarled, his eyebrows furrowing at her mistake. " _The little_ mudblood _can't handle her drink_."

Draco felt his body turn, his hand pressing into the wall beside her head and his body directly in front of her with his eyes narrowed. He couldn't stop it; he couldn't refrain from doing it. "What will it take to get through that bush of a head that I don't think of you like that?"

"What, like filth?" The last two words purposefully spat at him. "How you'll have to acid apply lips!"

"I think you mean apply acid to my lips," he smirked darkly. "But again, Granger. You fail to see past the end of your nose. That's your entire fucking problem, if it's not in a book or spelt out to you, you are unable to see it!"

Her eyebrows lifted, his eyes caught on hers as he watched them darken. While he knew what had exited her mouth not long ago, the spell that she had used to freshen herself up and the amount she had drunk, he couldn't deny the impulse growing inside of him. The knot tightening in his chest, pulling his body towards hers, an indescribable feeling that had awakened in him and he didn't know why.

She wasn't anything great. She was rather plain, her hair was ridiculous, and he hadn't even gotten to her family tree. Yet, here she was, all wide-eyed and undeniably intelligent even intoxicated.

"Go home, Granger," he managed to croak out. His voice hitching as he said it, afraid of his traitorous body. "Get one of your fabulous muggle cars to take you home, or… I don't know splinch yourself.  _Just get out of my face_."

He pushed off from the wall, brushing down his shirt as he watched her smirk. "I know you don't want that," Hermione whispered into the warm air and he stared at her in disbelief. "If I splinch myself, it will be on your conscious."

He sighed a breath of relief, hating that he was so easily read. "You think you are something special don't you, Granger?"

"Yes," she said with a confidence that was usually hidden. "You're special too." He scoffed loudly as he looked at the floor, not wanting her to see how pleased he was with her words. "Specially dim," she laughed, and he looked up, snarling. "You walked into that one."

"I hate you, Granger," he spat.

Hermione shrugged, "least I got a kiss out of it."

* * *

**February 15th, 1999**

Hermione had been bent over her books attempting to revise  _Crinus Muto_ , the incantation for a spell to transform the colour and style of the caster's hair. It was a spell they had touched on in sixth year. The fond memories of Harry turning his eyebrow bright yellow making her smile as she heard someone clear their throat. Hermione looked over her shoulder, seeing an extremely uncomfortable Theo Nott stood behind her with a grinning Dean Thomas.

"Theo, Dean?" She said.

Dean rubbed his mouth, attempting to hide a laugh as Theo shook his head as if thinking he was childish and immature. "You, Malfoy… Care to explain?"

Hermione bit back a devilish smile, one she thought Draco would be proud of if he happened to be here watching their friends attempt to interrogate her, she shuffled in her seat as if pretending to contemplate. The truth was, now that they had brought the subject up, she felt a longing between her thighs at the thought of him. The urge to find him and press her lips against his, to taste him and feel his body flush against hers. It had been a rush and a half; it had been butterflies and explosions. Most of all, it had been everything she had thought a kiss should be.

She had always known that you couldn't base love on something you read or see, it was something you would only feel. A first kiss, though, she thought it would be everything years of literature had led her to believe. Her kiss with Viktor had been intense but in a way that made her uncomfortable. Her kiss with Ron in the middle of the war had felt right when she had thrown herself at him, but hours later when the dust had settled, it felt wrong.

Then there was Draco. The night she had thrown herself at him had been unexplainable, as if something inside of her had wrapped around her and an animalistic emotion inside of her caused her to lunge for him. She didn't have much recollection of it, except the incomplete feeling when she had awoken without him. The kiss this time had been one she had never wanted to end, she had never wanted his hands to not be on her body and she felt like he was equally reluctant to part with her.

"You'll have to ask him, Theodore," she teased. "And Dean, you can poke your nose in my life when you deal with yours."

Dean looked at her with a shocked expression, one that wasn't hiding or convincing her that she was wrong. She watched as he folded his arms, his usual tell-tale sign that he felt vulnerable. "I don't know what you mean," Dean lied.

"Just… write to Seamus and ask him to meet you," Hermione mused. "You can't leave a kiss hanging in the air with no meaning, not when you've been dodging around this for years."

Theo snorted as she glared at him, "drop the glaring lion look, Granger. I might like it." He teased as she narrowed her eyes even more, watching as he simply smiled. "What is the phrase I am looking for, pot and kettle?"

"I am not being a hypocrite," Hermione said defensively. "There is nothing lingering in the air."

"Nothing that can't be sliced with a knife?" Theo smirked. "Like… tension of the sexual kind."

Hermione glared, feeling her cheeks flush, "where is he?"

Theo nodded his head over to Draco's room as she got up, wanting a little word with the snake who had blabbed.

* * *

**February 15th, 1999**

He was just about to exit his room when his door opened and in sneaked the curly-haired witch he hadn't stopped thinking about. Draco, having spent most of Valentine's hiding away, forced a smile on his face that he hoped seemed believable and comfortable, even if he was wrestling with a storm of conflicting feelings inside.

Their eyes met as his mouth dried, noticing that he was holding his breath expectantly due to the gritted expression on her face and clenched fists. He knew that whatever had riled her up was not going to be pretty, the storm that had already begun in her eyes confirmed this. "Gran - Hermione, are you okay -"

"- You  _blabbed_!"

Draco frowned. "Excuse me?"

"Do not feign innocence with me Draco  _Lucifer_  Malfoy -" Hermione hissed.

"- It's Lucius," he interrupted.

"- I know what it is damn it!" Her voice was reaching a higher pitch as she held the back of her hand against her forehead, her chest rising and falling too quickly as if on the verge of a panic attack.

Draco instinctively grasped her shoulders, holding her together in fear she would fall apart without it. He swallowed, watching as she closed her eyes and her lashes set against her cheeks and her mouth turned into an 'O' shape as she took several breaths. He took the chance to study her features he had been blind to, the way her top lip curved and the curve of her cheeks that made her look more stunning than he had ever noticed.

The tension was beginning to build, a mix of arousal and awkwardness and he knew that if he didn't speak, he would instead kiss her, needing to be against her again not quite quenching the feeling that had been building since he'd seen her in August.

"Hermione?"

She sighed, just loud enough for him to notice but maybe no one else, and her eyes opened as he was showered in brown. "You told Theo?"

"No," he said. His hand rising to brush her hair from her face and he caught her eyes moving to his arm, her widened eyes at the uncovered mark. He flinched from her, letting her go out of fear that she would shatter before him. His hand grasped for his sleeve, attempting to tug it down and hide the disgusting sign that would never let him move on. His fingers were shaking, the fabric not untangling from itself quick enough to hide it when he felt her shaking hand touch his.

"Don't," she swallowed. "I need…" Draco was turning his head, meeting her pale face. "I need to see it; I need to."

Draco wanted to scream  _that she didn't_ , knowing full well that if she saw it and remembered what horror people who bore that mark brought it would all unravel, that it would tumble all around him. His vision was blurring and he couldn't focus even as he tried to fight her grasp. The room was beginning to spin around him, the floor seeming to move from underneath him. His stomach doing flips and twists as he felt the burning in his throat that usually came before vomiting and the tightness in his chest that accompanied it.

In the corner of his vision, he could see a darkness spreading just like an illness. It was taking over him and all that he saw, slowly falling and veiling all the happiness he had been feeling even if it had been accompanied with guilt. He saw in his mind images of her being called names for standing with him, the looks she would get if he ever looped his fingers in hers and the hexes she would receive just as he did. Draco wanted to pull his sleeve down, he wanted to cover all of it away and pretend none of it existed, but he was unable to as her hand gripped him tighter stopping him.

He heard the angry shouts of his father, the fear that had frozen him when he was younger for befriending a Muggle at the theatre. He remembered the disgust on his father's face at his insolence. He could only imagine him turning in his grave at the knowledge that Draco felt something much more for Hermione.

_She deserves better_ , his conscious snarled.  _She deserves someone who isn't afraid._

Before he knew it, she was pushing him down onto his bed and asking him to breathe. His cheeks felt damp, her cold fingers brushing tears he hadn't known he cried as she looked at him the same as usual. "Draco?"

"Hermione," he said. Draco opened his mouth to tell her to stay away from him, to keep her distance. He tried to spit them out, instead just opening and closing his mouth and seeing her frown as he did so.  _You need to stay away;_  he shouted in his head becoming frustrated that he couldn't speak. "I didn't blab," was all he managed to say, her fingers moving into his hair as he felt his body soothe, blinking several times seeing her on her knees in front of him and hating the thoughts he had of her like this. "But, whatever they said they were right. You… can't be with me."  _The image of her hair flying around her face as her face contorted, showing the agony at the spell that had hit her and him stood close by, powerless to stop._  "You can't; we can't… I will bring you pain."

"No one has said -" she began but he held her hand tightly and it seemed to silence her. He watched her eyes follow his hand as he raised it to his lips and he pressed a kiss against her skin. "Draco," she whispered, but he shook his head silencing her.

"I'm wrong, all of this is wrong," he said, pressing another kiss on her skin but this time on her wrist. She looked saddened as if knowing what was to come. "You can't know that this is what you want, even if you think you do and I know even in your amazingly brilliant mind you already think you know. Why do you think I hid in here, why would you want to be around someone who is a coward and hides from you?" Her head dipped and he nodded in understanding. "I will get you hurt; I need you to know that before you continue to side with me. I don't want you hurt, Hermione." His throat tightening as the emotion began to take over. "I care about you far too much to watch you suffer because of me or even worse, by my own hand."

"I know what I want," she began to mumble, but he kissed her hand once more. "You aren't the only one who hid. I know that I want this, I want to kiss you and I want it to be right and not dictated by -"

"- That's what I'm afraid of. I spent the entire day not wanting to break your heart on the most romantic day of the year; I don't want to be… I don't want to hurt you." He sighed heavily, "you haven't taken any time to think about any of this and… I can't do this with you when you're at risk. My father may be dead but not everyone is, not every person who thinks I am scum is dead, so… I want this, but I want you safe more," he sighed with a heavy heart.

Draco watched as she slowly stood, his hand letting hers go as it fell to her side slowly. Hermione took a step closer standing between his legs as she sat down on his lap, his eyes not breaking from her face. The words were on his lips, the ones that would end this, that would ruin this moment. He never let them come, feeling her weight settle on his leg as she wrapped her arms around his neck.

"Stay," he told her, her head nodding as she pressed a kiss to his cheek and instead buried her head into his neck and he basked in the smell of her hair, never wanting the smell of honey and vanilla to never leave him. "Just for a moment, then you need to go, you have to," he muttered the last part, hating that he even felt like he had to say those words. He must though;  _he knew that_.

"Just for a moment," she agreed as he pressed a soft kiss on her neck, relaxing in her hold as his breathing returned to normal. "Then I will go. Not for good though..."

His stomach dropped hearing the last part, glad that his fears hadn't pushed her from him just yet but still hating that he was at risk of letting her down, of hurting her. Her scent and body pressed against his took most of his concerns away for now, just for a moment.

* * *

**February 23rd, 1999**

"You are avoiding me," he chimed. Draco smirked, tapping his fingers against the bookshelf as she looked up at him, thankful that the library was quieter tonight. "You can try and deny it."

"I am simply giving you the space you seemed to think that I needed," her tone was enough of an indication for him to know that she was annoyed. "You are one to talk about avoiding anyway," Hermione added bitterly.

Draco hadn't exactly been as forthcoming as usual, he didn't wait for her at breakfast and he hadn't asked her for as much help with Ancient Runes and instead chose to ask the Professor instead. He had thought that she wouldn't hold such a public holiday against him, but it seemed he was wrong.

"I'm not one for rushing things, Granger."

" _Granger_  again I see," she snarled.

" _Hermione then_ ," Draco grunted. "I need you to think about things. I'm… not someone that should be kissing  _Brightest Witches or Golden Trio members_. I'm… a good friend for you, I like to think. But anything more, I would… I'd feel like -"

Hermione raised her hands in the air, "why don't you just…" her hands grasping the air, showing the frustration that had been building in her chest from his absence. "Let's pretend that we aren't those people," her fingers brushing his cheek. "Let's just…  _pretend for two seconds_."

"Granger —"

"—  _Hermione_ ," she corrected as he met her hazel eyes as he felt himself sink a little more.

" _Hermione, I will always_  be that person. The one who carries a mark evil enough to give myself a panic attack and the one that nearly sparked you to have one!"

"Pretend you aren't," she whispered as her hand grazed his cheek once more. "Pretend that it is okay to feel this, pretend that it's okay to kiss me, pretend that we never met before now and this is it,  _our fresh start_."

"But you have nothing to run from… You have nothing to pretend about, Hermione. I am the one that made mistakes I am the one that —" her finger moving from his cheek to his lips as he swallowed the words.

He could feel the warmth on his lips spreading down his throat, warming his chest and his core. The warmth slowly being replaced by electricity and need as he felt the pull towards her and the desire and the strength he had was wavering.

Taking a step back, looking down at the floor to avoid the heartache in her eyes, "I can't play pretend. Because I am who I am, you can't fix that." Turning around, his hand brushing the dust covered desk, "you can't fix everything Gran - Hermione, you just… can't."

"You don't know that," he heard her say, his eyes closing as he bit his lip in frustration at himself. That he had to bite back the words he wanted to say, biting back the fact he wanted to try and he wanted to let her, always knowing that if he did, he'd never deserve it. He would never deserve her purity or her kindness; he was a liar, a coward and most of all he was a loser. "You're just scared —"

"—  _Of course I'm fucking scared Hermione!_ " Turning to see her stood a little closer, surprise at his outburst over her face. "For fuck sake look at me! I am marked for the rest of my life for something I pretended to understand. So ready to play with the big boys that I almost killed someone, I nearly took an innocent man's life. And not just any man, but a man that I actually admired. I don't care if I was a pawn, I don't care that I changed my mind because I still stood there, I still tortured someone, no older than me! I had to watch him beg for his life  _on the orders of a madman,_  in my own home!  _By my own hand!_  I made him shake and cry. I hurt your friends;  _I forced_  someone to be my puppet and curse another student. And you, you'll never understand what that does to a person because you were in the other place. You were the one begging, you cried into my floorboards as you were tortured and I did nothing about it, I fucking stood there and did nothing and _I hate myself,_  I hate myself more than anything I have ever felt and it's all I carry around me. That I didn't do enough, that I didn't stand up to them, that I didn't get Potter out before you all escaped. That I was a coward…" his chest rising and falling quicker than ever as he felt the painful tears brimming to erupt. "That I have never done the right thing," his voice breaking as he felt the tears fall, "that I have always picked being an obnoxious arsehole over doing the right thing and now, for the rest of - of my life, people are going to look at me, re-remind me that I am that person."

"Draco…"

"No," Draco pleaded as he outstretched his hand, only becoming aware he was now resting his entire body on the desk as his tears painted the floor. "You can't fix this, I am broken beyond repair and I shouldn't… I  _shouldn't_  have kissed you."

Her hand knocked his hand away, standing in front of him as she tilted his head up with her fingers as she forced him to look at her before she yanked back the sleeve of her shirt, forcing her forearm in his face.

"You can't change this, Draco, if you had stepped in, if you had done anything we would have been killed on sight. Without your lies, without your words buying us time. I'd be dead. Which would mean that Harry would be dead," he felt himself snort as he saw her smile. "But that version of you died with the war Draco.  _You aren't him_ … I don't think I could ever like him. But, you? This version, I think I do."

"Hermione," he whimpered as she held his cheek with her palm.

"You can't change how I feel.  _I_  can't change how I feel," Hermione whispered as he stared at the flicks of amber in her eyes, the faint smell of sunshine coming from her skin as he tried to find a reason to push her away.

Instead, his hand raised to her hip as he held it firmly, her body swaying at the contact as he looked from her eyes to her lips before staring into the fire that erupted in her doe eyes. He felt the light and the warmth as her lips brushed against his lightly, as if asking for permission. His other hand moving to hold her cheek before spreading into her soft curls, pulling her lips more passionately to his, moving them over hers as he took a soft mewl from her as the hand on her hip moved up her back, pulling her flush against him.

Draco guided her until her back made contact with the bookshelves, a lot of naughty thoughts passing through his mind as he ran his tongue over the entrance of her mouth. He felt her back arch into him, her hips attempting to roll into him as his hand moved down from her back and gripped her hip tighter, almost bruisingly.

He opened his mouth, ready to deepen the kiss when he parted his mouth from hers leaving her gasping for more. "Two wrongs, don't make a right," he whispered as she blinked, his lips pressing softly against hers. "You know that don't you?" He said between another flurry of kisses, feeling her smirk against his lips.

"As if you even believe that statement," she whispered back, her fingers sifting into his hair as her legs spread and then wrapped around his waist. He ground his pelvis against her core as he stared into her eyes. "And as much as I am enjoying this," her teeth bit down gently on his lip and released it. "I'd rather enjoy this particular activity  _alone_."

"We are alone."

Hermione smirked as he slowly lowered her back to the ground, missing the heat of her body already, "not alone enough, Draco."

* * *

**AN:**  See you in a week  
 **xox**


	8. March

**AN:**  a VERY Dramione focused chapter, my favourite one of them all so far if I am a little honest. I hope you enjoy. (Updated a day earlier as tomorrow I will be out and about and didn't want to leave you all hanging).

_**The smutty piece is from the March entry below to the following break!** _

**EXTRA AN:** If you are fancying more  _Pierre_   **Dramione** , I have finally uploaded **The Abyss**  - aka the long awaited  _twisty-_ turney _Dramione fic_ from me and if I do say so myself IS  **AMAZING**. Please check it out.

* * *

  **Beta Love:**  The sparkle in this diamond, Dramieylo, this would all be a mess without them.

* * *

**March 6th, 1999**

Draco had been losing his patience with his essay, none of the words making much sense. He was far more focused on the memory of the swollen lips, dilated eyes, flushed skin and more-mussed-than-usual hair of his favourite Gryffindor as they parted ways in the library. He had hated stepping away from her, needing more of her mouth on his own and swearing a personal grudge against every centimetre of space between them when she finally whispered goodbye. It was the exact reason he near jumped out of his skin when she came through the door with the speed of the wind and stood there breathing as if she'd just run the entire way from the great hall.

He had to pinch himself, just to ensure that he hadn't thought about her so intensely to have somehow wordlessly conjured her image. Draco suddenly found himself unsure if that was even possible and became tempted to ask her. If anyone would know it would be her, if she wasn't a mirage. His eyes widened. Was this a trick? Had someone slipped him a mind-altering potion to get back at him in an even crueller way than normal?

"I don't know why…" Hermione began breathlessly.

Not wanting to startle her more, he remained seated. " _Gran_  – Hermione, what are you  _doing_  here? I thought you'd be at the reunion with Potter, Weasel and all the other 8 years. Didn't you do all the planning for it?"

Hermione was standing, blushing, wild-eyed and silent and he began to panic. She looked intense. Scared? Angry? Was she going to start yelling? He felt compelled to give her his full attention as he placed his quill down, moving the Transfiguration homework to one side as she closed his door behind her. Now that he was fully focused on her there was a look in her eye that he hadn't seen before when she was scared or angry. It was so startling, so pure and beautiful that nobody who had seen it would have ever thought her plain. It made her look radiant, confident and in control. She looked like she could take on the world and he was starting to see why she sparked so much fear in the Ministry, why she had sparked so much fear in those that opposed the light.

"Are you a dream? Hallucination? Someone with too much  _Polyjuice_  and too much time?" He felt compelled to say. Her hand reached out as she pulled him up with ease from the chair, his shoulders stiffening as he tried to rack his brains for something he had done to get her this worked up. "Not a mirage, then. Polyjuice? I mean, I'm a catch and all but, this is a little far."

"Draco," she spoke, and he swallowed any doubts he had. "I didn't go."

"I can see that," he smirked but didn't hold it for long, dropping it because of the look on her face and the bubble of concern that was building in his stomach, making him feel nauseous.

"I chose to stay in."

He swallowed loudly, his eyes fixed on hers as he watched them glimmer in the faint light in the room, "why?" He managed to croak.

Hermione smiled, "because of you."

Draco decided to bite back a sarcastic comment in favour of nodding. Her body was moving closer until she was almost flush with him and her honey scented perfume wafted up to his senses, drawing him in. Definitely his Hermione, then.

Being around her was intoxicating, he was unsure how he had managed to stay level headed so long with her in his room, door shut and all. Her hair seemed less maniacal, her expression seemed less stressed, and she seemed at peace, relaxed, if still flushed and now biting her bottom lip.

"Hermione…"

"Say you want me," she whispered as her fingers circled his cheek. "Say you want me, I promise I won't run this time."

His tongue clicked against the roof of his mouth before rolling out to wet his own lips unsure on whether to give in. It was dangerous,  _he was dangerous,_  she'd be forever unhappy with him when she could have someone unbroken, someone, untainted.

But he couldn't deny his feelings, "I want you." His lips crashed into hers as he wrapped his arms around her, his fingers grasping at her clothes as he walked her backwards making contact with the wall. The impact caused her to gasp, not in fear or pain but in desire and excitement. His lips latched onto hers, tasting sweetness and sugar, wanting to lick it all off her and gorge on it forever until her lips parted and his tongue brushed against hers. The contact caused him to groan, vibrating down his throat as he felt her hand move to pull his shirt from his trousers. He braced for her fingers on his skin, expecting cold but got warm, it spreading from her fingers as she brushed around his hips.

He felt the urge for contact, breaking from her lips to kiss her neck as he ripped her robe from her shoulders, slowly pulling it down to free her arms as he sucked lightly on her neck. Her whimper buzzed against his lips as he repeated the action again, his fingers slowly tracing back up her arms until he realised that she was shirtless.

Draco's head ripped up, his eyes blinking as he saw her stood just in her underwear and a delicate chain that fell between her plump breasts, "little devil," he whispered darkly.

"You have no idea," she teased.

His hands were lifting her up around his waist, the feel of her soft bare legs against him as he pressed her back into the wall, biting down on her lip.

They felt as though they were in another world, a world where they were one and always had been and as if every single moment they had shared had been leading up to this. With each brush of skin causing an electric current to run between them, lighting the two of them up. Her kisses were banishing the darkness he carried around, his doubts washing away into an unknown sea with her touches. His confidence and self-worth grew with each moan from her lips.

Draco unbuckled his trousers, marvelling at her quick work of his shirt as he let the black material fall to the floor leaving him just as unclothed as she. "Are you sure?" He asked, not wanting to take liberties yet unable to resist as he rolled his hips into hers.

"Yes," she moaned, the sensation he felt replicating through her.

His legs had become less stable as he rolled thrice more, the sheer thrill of her moans and his member brushing against her through their undergarments causing him to lose control. He wrapped one arm around her back and lifted her with his other hand, fingers digging into where the swell of her bottom met her thigh as he carried her over to the bed, carefully placing her down in his sheets as he stood back and marvelled.

"Off," she commanded with a smile. He smirked in response to the command from the bossy witch, hands travelling to his waistband. He didn't mind, he'd do anything for this witch, as scary as that was to admit.

"Wait," he said suddenly, her eyes widening as a thousand doubts and worries flooded her beautiful eyes. "Relax," he attempted to soothe. "I need to cast a protection, you know," he began to stumble, cursing himself for losing his words. "Pregnancy and.. I am losing my brain, I mean my -"

Hermione's fingers moved from his skin to the charm on her necklace as if reading his mind, not that it would surprise him if she was because this was definitely a fantasy he had thought of on quite a few nights. "Brightest Witch of my Age. I was fully prepared."

"I didn't want to assume," he replied with a devilish smirk. "Nor should you have," he winked.

She brought her lips to his, reminding him to be silent as he relished at the touch, "now, _take them off._ "

Draco slid his boxers down slowly, sighing with pleasure as his erection was freed from the constraints of the fabric. He stared at her, marvelling in all her beauty as he climbed onto his knees at her feet, his lips pressing against her ankle, her calf and the side of her knee. His fingers smoothed over the softness of her skin, wanting to know each curve until he felt the lace of her knickers. He looked up, ensuring she was happy as he took her smile for acceptance and he slowly, teasingly, pulled them down.

He gave her no chance to feel insecure, moving between her legs and hooking her leg over his hip as he kissed her with such severity she would know he wanted her. His fingers brushed over the lace of her bra, feeling the hardened nipples with his thumbs as she groaned at his touch. It didn't take him much work to undo her bra, breaking from her lips to kiss and lick each nipple as she leant on her elbows and cast her head back. Draco knew from the movements of his hips into the sheets that he wouldn't hold out for much longer, slowly lowering his hand before sliding a finger over her core.

"Oh Hermione," he moaned as she grasped his arm, her mouth parted as she mumbled something that sounded like  _sweet Godric_. "You're so wet," his fingers slowly sliding into her, her body arching for more contact as he felt her tighten around him, "you are so beautiful, so, so beautiful Hermione." Her head raised trying desperately to kiss him, her amber eyes looking at him wildly as he smiled, "you, are  _so sexy_."

Her lips rose into a devilish smile, her leg attempting to wrap around him as she swallowed, " _I need you_."

Draco removed his finger, cupping her thighs with his hands as he moved up to her lower back, their lips meeting and he felt her hand move into his hair. "Have you?"

"Yes! Yes, once," she breathed in anticipation. "Just…"

"Oh, I'll be slow," he whispered before capturing her lips. "I'm not rushing this at all."

He lowered his lips and did as he promised, slowly sliding himself into her as she whimpered at the feel of him, taking him entirely. He swirled his tongue over hers, slowly moving his hips, building her tolerance for his movements as he ran a hand through her hair, pulling it back to see her face.

Draco never gave it much thought what it would feel like to sleep with Hermione Granger, know it all and Gryffindor but it was better than anything he had ever felt. She felt like heaven, her legs wrapped around him was bliss, and as he began to build up his thrusts, her moans were a sound he wanted to hear always. He felt complete, utterly fixed and never able to be broken as if he was whole after so many years of being shattered. Then, there was how beautiful she looked. She looked unrestrained, relaxed and the blush on her cheeks was a shade he needed to see on her more often.

She was everything and then some. She was stunning, and at this moment, he hoped in all moments, she was his.

"Fuck," he hissed as he lifted her slightly, grazing a sensitive spot as he felt her walls clench. Her nails were gripping into his sides, marking and bruising him. "Oh Hermione, fuck, fuck," he thrust harder, wanting to watch her come undone, wanting to please her and make her scream.

"Oh, bloody fuck," she moaned, the delightful curse word on her lips causing him to increase his speed. He could feel the spring tightening in his core, he could feel her clenching ready to release, and from her haggard breaths, she was close.

"Come for me, Hermione," he moaned as he bent over further, his teeth nibbling at her neck.

As if his words were what she needed to hear her body twitched, her body tensed and he felt her clamp down all around him gloriously as she let out a spluttered cry with his name mixed in. The sight of her mouth in that perfect 'O', the way her back had arched had been too much for him, thrusting once before he felt the spring snap and he groaned in the release, his head swirling and lights blinding him.

Draco felt as if he was floating as if he had somehow died from having such mindblowing sex. Then he felt her hands, her fingers moving into his hair and he came down to earth, blinking several times as he lowered himself down beside her, not being able to help the way he felt in his chest and kissing her to show that.

Their breathing was out of sync, her arm was over his hip, and for now, that was all he needed. Draco didn't want to ask what it was that he had felt when they came together because he suspected she had felt the same and he wasn't sure he was ready to hear what it was. He also didn't want to ruin the moment and ask was it as electrifying and different for her as it was him because it was out of the ordinary and admitting that seemed… unmanly. Not only that, he was in fear that asking her if she had enjoyed herself sounded like something Weasel would do and Salazar forbid he lower himself that far.

Draco turned his head, her eyes looking at him already and he felt her twist into him a bit more. Unspoken words said between their looks as she blushed.

"Again?"

"Oh fucking hell, yes," he responded as she giggled. " _But_! Just give me  _five… ten_  minutes." As he rose his hand to run through his hair, her eyes following his every move.

"I like your hair like that," he cocked his brow in surprise as she smiled. "It is all untamed, not perfect. I like you not being perfect all the time."

"I could say the same about you," he taunted as she flicked his chest. "Hermione, I felt something —"

"— I know," she interrupted, almost cutting him off as she nodded and he did know, he understood perfectly. " _I need you_." Was all she said and for now, that was all he needed to hear.

* * *

**March 15th, 1999**

Her eyes as hard as nails, penetrating soul-deep into his own, words evading him as he anchored his attention on her until she pulled her arm from his grip. His hand reached out to take her hand before he pulled closer, almost flush with him, his lips locking onto hers as he smelt the flowery fragrance that had become so familiar. He felt her relax slightly in his touch as his jumper fell to the floor, her nails raking through his hair, his fingers gripped her back before lifting her onto her tip toes. What had started as one passionate taste of her full lips, became more intense.

His hand was snaking up the nightie until he met her bare back, the two of them tumbling through his open door as her fingers scrambled to free him of his shirt before they gracelessly fell in a tangled mass of limbs to his bed. He gently tugged the straps of her nightie down, brushing her hair back from her now free breasts, lifting to leave trails of kisses over the valley between them before tracing the left with his lips as his fingers teased the right. He heard her groan quietly, their breaths being all else that he could hear, her eyes dangerously burning into him as her fingers traced along the scars on his chest delicately, leaving little goosebumps in their path.

He knew that it was treacherous to continue, but as her hot breath met his neck, her lips tentatively teasing before nipping at his skin, he knew he was already too far gone. His fingers were running up her thighs as he felt only bare skin, cocking his eyebrow up in surprise as she traced his lips with hers once more, circling his bottom lip with her tongue as he brushed his finger over her sensitive nub, a loud moan escaping her lips.

Draco wasn't sure as to when the rest of his clothing was removed or how she came to be sinking down onto his hard length, her teeth biting down on her bottom lip in an attempt to silence her moans, having already forgotten the Silencio he had applied to the room earlier. Draco held onto her hips possessively as he thrust deeper into her, leaving hot kisses along her skin and making special care with her neck, marking her just light enough for her to notice. He could feel the shockwaves pulsating in him, the sound of her breath rising and falling as he ran his hand up her back, her eyes caressed over him, and he felt like he was on fire under her watch. That as the two of them pounded their hips into the other, losing the rhythm they had built, he pulled her to his lips as he felt the shattering, undoing of himself as she tensed around him. Her hips continuing to grind out the last parts of her release before she doubled over, landing on his chest.

Draco could feel her heart beating through her chest to his as he moved her hair from her face, liquid pools of chocolate and amber watching him as he ran his fingers through her hair once more, no words needing to be spoken, not right now.

He couldn't quite believe that this had been the second night their revising for NEWTs had turned into this. Not that he would ever complain, it happened to be the greatest reward for working out Arithmacy calculations all evening and soothed his aching brain from focusing intently on the page and not immediately gazing at her.

His eyes wandered over her figure as she slowly placed the nightie back over her enviable figure, his legs slipping back into his boxers as he remained lay down on the bed. She turned to face him as he held out his hand. "Stay…" he mumbled, her brow furrowing at the request before he cleared his throat. "Please, stay." He slowly motioned for her to come back on the bed, extending his arm out that she thankfully took, joining him back in the messed up sheets.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to ask more, but instead, she curled her body more into him and basked in the warmth of his body. He knew that a thousand thoughts were running through her mind, especially as she traced along Potter's sectumsempra scars with her eyes and gentle fingertips Draco wrapped his arm around her waist, snuggling into her neck more as he breathed in her scent wishing that he could bottle it and carry it around with him. Everything about her soothed him. He had hoped that he hadn't been a prejudiced arse for so long and had gone and spoken to her.

"I won't ever be good enough for you," Draco whispered into her hair, feeling her attempt to turn at his voice but his wrapped arm prevented her from turning. "I hide from you because I am afraid. Just as I was a coward to avoid you on Valentine's," he sighed into her nest of curls, not noticing the goosebumps along her neck at the feel of his breath. "It's always stood for a lot, especially to us… Slytherin's." He cleared his throat, unsure why all of this was tumbling out of him but while he didn't want to continue, he also didn't want to stop. "All of the girls, especially Pansy, would create all these intricate traps in the common room to capture us." At this Hermione turned successfully, his body beginning to tense at the memories. "I know that you aren't like that, you aren't manipulative. I just don't have any happy memories of the holiday and I didn't want… I didn't want to mess whatever we were becoming over something silly."

Hermione brushed her finger over his cheek, a knowing smile on her face as he watched her eyes trail his skin. "I am far more manipulative than you can imagine," she smirked. "However, only when those I care about are threatened."

Draco half-smiled, "you are going to tell me something devilish now, aren't you? I already know you broke out of Gringotts on a dragon; you took down the man of many souls, I doubt you could surprise me much more."

She twisted her body in his arms, her foot sliding up his leg as she licked her lips with a grin that made his stomach knot in lust. "I trapped Rita Skeeter in a jar," she said as if it was nothing. His face must have looked as surprised as his mind was because she laughed, sweetly he should add, not helping him to be convinced. "Yeah, she's… well, that is a story for another day."

"You are such a minx, Granger," he laughed. Draco lowered his head to plant a kiss on her lips. She forced him back for more with one hand on his cheek and another in his hair, each kiss spreading warmth down to his toes.

When they separated, her eyes sparkled as if they were made of pools of chocolate. They were a sight he would never be able to describe except to say they were more beautiful than anything he had ever seen before.

Hermione slowly lowered her hand to his chest, "I don't have good connotations with Valentine's either," she mumbled, a frown passing over his face before he had a chance to mask it.

"There was me thinking that you would be showered in more adoration than usual," he commented without teasing, realising before he spoke that this was a sensitive subject from the pain in her eyes. The look had disturbed the beauty that he had seen, but not stolen it or taken it from him. It had just changed the sight, and he realised that he could really see her for who she was and as if they were connecting, understanding one another more.

"Now I am," she said, her cheeks blushing slightly. "Now that I am this golden child, but when it mattered when I was just, Hermione Granger - _bookworm and Gryffindor_." Her eyes began to glisten in a different way than before, Draco knowing that he needed to be prepared, gesturing his fingers to his trousers for a handkerchief as it moved across the room to his palm. He smirked to himself, half-wishing she had just seen the level of skill he had just shown but upon seeing her crystallising tears, he remembered this was not the time for bragging. "Just because I liked to study, that I wanted to have good grades and make the best out of a talent I only found out I had at the age of eleven, I get looked down upon. I'm disgusting, unworthy of even a card on a day that most girls get showered in bucketloads."

"Hermione," Draco murmured, the pad of his thumb wiping her tear before it fell further down her cheek. "I'm…" Sorry, he wanted to say. He felt that was all he said when he was with her. Sorry. It was as though it was stuck on repeat and he couldn't come up with a different word. It was a moment he knew could go either way if he said the wrong thing, worrying frantically that she would storm out of the door if he confessed to much but then, he could always charm the door until she heard him out. "You ever heard the phrase; boys bully those they like?"

Hermione's face lit up, a grin spreading as he looked down at her, "you... _liked me_?"

"Well," Draco said, shrugging. "I didn't find you as repulsive as I made out. The Yule Ball really put a bitter taste in my mouth, if I am utterly truthful." She let out a little laugh that made him smile, a smile that came naturally when he was with her and wasn't forced or from sarcasm. It was real; he was always real when he was with her. "The night you drunkenly kissed me, this past summer." Hermione's cheeks flushed as he bit back a smirk at the colouring. "I fancied you a lot, then... before you got hammered I should add. I am a gentleman, after all."

"Of course," she mocked, forcing a posher accent as she said it.

Draco shook his head teasingly, "I can't tell you when it happened, but I can say for a long time that I was interested. You throwing yourself at me, however, kind of sealed the deal. Couldn't stop thinking about you and only hoped that you'd return for your studies."

"Is that so," she cooed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, his hand slipping over her hip as he felt her skin beneath his fingers.

Draco grinned as he pressed his lips to hers, "very much so," his lips trailing down her cheek, to her jaw before brushing over her lower lobe. "I  _really quite like_  you, Hermione," he whispered before pressing his lips to her neck, feeling her shudder in his arms from his breath on her skin, his mouth sucking lightly on her neck as he moved his body over hers.

"I think I quite like you also, Draco." Her fingers running over his abdomen, purposefully grazing over his scars as if she was attempting to heal them. Not realising that she had healed him more than he ever thought possible, just by being her.

* * *

**March 27th, 1999**

Theo slumped down beside him on the chaise with a force, his many books near falling to the ground from the sudden movement as Draco bristled at the sound of him biting into a chocolate bar. He didn't want to look up and give him any attention, knowing that it would feed his need to annoy him and prove, that as always, Theo was getting to him. He continued to scan the pages, attempting to focus on the many equations in front of him and hoping that for once it would just click and he wouldn't need to ask Hermione.

As the minutes passed in a half an hour of pure irritation to rival all others, Theo made it increasingly harder for Draco to ignore him. He began prodding Draco with his finger right in between his ribs. He whispered lyrics to songs that Draco had never heard of and when Theo finally grabbed his parchment from his lap, Draco realised he had lost whatever battle they were having.

"Is there something I  _can assist you_  with, Theodore?" Draco snarled, yanking the parchment back from his chocolate grip.

"Where's your _girlfriend_  then? Had enough of you?" Theo sighed, fingering the pages of the book next to him. "Can hardly blame her, you are a bit of an arse."

Draco paused, looking up straight ahead before turning his entire frame to meet Theo's. He needed the extra seconds before answering him because, truthfully, the label ' _girlfriend_ ' hadn't been discussed yet. Also, she had gotten herself quite worked up the first time she had suspected that he had told someone of their dealings and he didn't quite know how she would feel at him discussing the progression of said ' _dealings_ '.

"Hermione," Theo's brows rising at the use of her first name and not the usual 'Granger'. " _is not my girlfriend_. Unless," Draco raised his finger pointedly, "you are referring to the fact that she is my friend and also a girl?"

"Yes," Theo said sarcastically. "That is precisely what I am talking about. You being friends with a girl," his eyes rolling before he pinched the back of his arm. "You know I am fucking talking about the fact that  _Little Miss Granger_  has been sneaking into your room late at night," Theo said with a knowing smile. "I have eyes everywhere mate, you should have learned this from living with me for seven years."

Draco gritted his teeth remembering the many uncomfortable breakfasts when he announced the latest gossip of Slytherin house. "Well if she is sneaking, then clearly it is not a subject we are ready to discuss."

"Ah-ha!"

"If you do not shut the fuck up," Draco hissed purposefully, looking around to ensure no one was paying them any attention. "I will personally make shitting or sitting be very uncomfortable for you,  _understood_?"

"Crystal," Theo snorted.

He despised that his threats never had much effect on Theo, he always saw straight through them. He suspected that it had a lot to do with their sixth year, the disappointment his friend had felt at the sight of the mark on his arm. Draco didn't doubt that his ongoing breakdown that year had also instilled a little less faith in his threats but, he still felt compelled to say something even if it was to fall on deaf ears.

"To answer your question,  _however._ "

"Oh, goody," Theo said, rubbing his hands together as if he was about to hear something juicy. Draco almost wondered if he was as bad as the girls from his own house, remembering the way that Pansy would slide into every conversation just for a drop of information.

Draco, quickly losing his patience with his friend, glared, "she has been excused to visit the Weasel's house for his birthday party. His actual birthday was earlier this month," Draco smirking at what he happened to be doing with the witch when it was the little twit's birthday. He loved reminiscing over her faint mews, begging him for more and spurring him to press her into the desk in the abandoned classroom they were meant to be revising in, his fingers moving down her waistband.

"And you let her?" Theo said, interrupting his memory.

Flustered Draco just frowned, unsure what kind of question that was. "This is Hermione, you know… unstoppable Gryffindor, took down the prick with no nose? Like hell am I going to stop her doing what she wants, I like being alive thanks."

"All thanks to  _her,_ " Theo muttered.

"Plus!" Draco said louder, hoping to drown out Theo's mutters. "It is important for them to hear and see that I haven't hexed her or anything." Theo raised his brow before smirking, a look that Draco wasn't fond off in the slightest. It usually came with some piece of knowledge that he didn't care for and some advice on how to correct himself. "What now?"

" _You_  care."

"Of course I care," he spat. "I quite like my life, I don't plan on getting on the wrong end of any of the Golden Trio thank you very much. They did keep me out of prison and spared my mother from more embarrassment!"

Theo heavily sighed, seeming disappointed in him that his point hadn't quite reached him or that he was talking to someone who was far less intellectual than he was, which Theo seemed to think regularly. "I mean, you really care what they think of you, cause you wanna be with her, don'tcha?"

Draco was ready to protest that he wasn't with her and that again that wasn't a conversation he wished to have with her when he wasn't supposed to know about any of it. In that moment, however, she had come through the door, and all of his words and breath had escaped through his open mouth. He felt his heart swell in his chest to twice its size, and he was sure that the room got brighter upon her entering. He watched her meet his eyes, a shared look that told him all he needed to know.

_Meet in your room in 5._

It was a hungry, needful look and one that she reserved just for him. One that he mirrored when around her, unable to control his urges or his feelings. Draco could feel his heart rate quickening, excitement and anticipation heightening as he felt like he was whole again. Unsure when he hadn't been, but he tried not to focus on that knowing that he needed to quickly ditch Theo.

"Holy  _fucking balls on the Christmas tree_ ," Theo whispered. Draco forgetting that he would have been watching him this entire time, waiting and hoping to catch anything he could. "You  _fucking_  love her."

Draco's mouth opened, not able to protest the statement as much as he wished he could. It wasn't that he thought it was impossible, but he'd never experienced romantic love. For example, he knew he loved his mother and that he had loved his father, he even loved Theo. But a girl, a girl that he was currently being open and intimate with, this was new.  _Did the world stop on its axis when they touched because he was in love with her? Was this what love felt like?_

"You fucking love her!" Theo laughed, almost bouncing up and down with excitement, patting him on the back overzealously and he wasn't sure if he should take it as congratulations or if it was directed in a mocking way.

Draco felt paralysed to the spot, playing back each moment since his trial. Each lingering look, each hope that they would touch and each pull towards her. The way his whole body lit up when they had kissed, the way it had felt when he finally was able to touch all of her and please her in all the ways he had been thinking of since the summer. He thought of the many times he had thought of her when he shouldn't, the many daydreams he had encountered and the many sleepless nights knowing how close to him she was.

" _Fuck_ ," he whispered, listening to Theo's chuckling fade away as he walked out of the common room, leaving Draco alone with the explosion he had just created. "I think I'm in love with  _Granger_." Even admitting it out loud didn't feel any better, his stomach churning with the realisation. "I'm… in love." He thought, not entirely hating the idea and he caught a whiff of her perfume and his stomach soothed. "I love Hermione," he whispered into the air more confidently this time, a smile slowly growing on his face as he waved his wand over his books watching them pack.

He strutted to his room with his bag slung over his back, the new found thoughts running through his mind and filling him with a buzz he had never known. It was only as his hand touched the doorknob that he felt the bucket of realisation drop over him.

He would have to tell her. " _Fuck…_ " he scolded himself. His head pressing against his door as he grimaced not knowing at all what he was going to do.

* * *

**xox**


	9. April

**AN:** Sorry for the wee' delay. I have finalised the last TWO chapters of this fic. May and a long June with a little epilogue at the end. While this fic was ultimately a very long one-shot for my bestie, FairyStone, it has been a blessing to write, and I am so glad that you all jumped on board with me.

Please, please give  _ **The Abyss**_  a look over, it is by far my  **favourite**  thing I have written. I am super proud & it will be long and weekly updated with a promise.

* * *

**Beta Love:**  The sparkle in this diamond, Dramieylo, this would all be a mess without them.

* * *

**April 13th, 1999**

* * *

Hermione felt his fingers tracing her stomach, his eyes still closed but she knew that he had been awake a while. She didn't want to complain, not really wishing to leave his bed never mind his room. It didn't strike her that this was odd, that she had never felt as safe as she did currently since before the war. She wouldn't deny it if someone asked her, safety was when she laid in his arms, and she didn't think that was something to be ashamed of.

Hermione had constantly thought that her younger self would find this predicament odd, after all, she had spent the better part of her childhood life hating him. She half wished as she lay in his arms, that she would be able to go back and tell herself what she had always thought. No one can be that cruel really. It was this that was ironic; it had been the very thing she had always told herself to soothe her tears when he had upset her or when he had hexed her teeth. All that time it had been true he was kind underneath, in his own way.

It didn't scare her that he was the one that would heal her, even though she knew it should.

This was mainly down to the hope that Hermione thought she did the same for him. Otherwise, she wasn't sure she could excuse their past run-ins. While his temper had severely improved, especially with her, he was still difficult purposefully and often went out of his way to rub people the wrong way. No matter what, she knew she would never excuse his behaviour, she wouldn't forgive anyones. She knew that he wore a cloak of armour around himself because that's just how he had been raised and that was okay with others he didn't trust, but she knew even with all the change the two of them had gone through, she wouldn't be able to excuse him being cold with her. Not now, not after all of this.

Hermione rolled slightly to face him, her mouth parting to speak but silenced by a "Shh." Her eyes moving up to see him smiling, "I'm not quite awake," he whispered as she moved her head back on his pillow. "But I know I am handsome, Hermione, you don't need to think it so loud Hermione -  _Ouch, mother of balls!"_

Draco's eyes opening quickly as she blew cold breath on her fingers as if she had hurt them, a smirk spreading over his lips as she let out a laugh at the look he was sporting. He was so undone, so real. His hair at all angles and a glisten in his eyes she only saw when he had first kissed her. Even his facial expressions seemed relaxed, and although she wasn't used to it at all, she rather liked it. He was more handsome at this moment than he had ever been, so perfect, so… unbroken.

"What?" He asked with a frown, the expression fading quickly as lined appeared on his brow, ruining it all.

"You just looked,  _happy_ ," Hermione smiled, her cheeks blushing. "It was rather appealing on you."

Draco snorted as he lay back down on the bed, placing one arm behind his head as he closed his eyes once more, "I have a half-naked beauty in my bed. Why would I not be happy?"

"You… think I am  _beautiful_?"

His eyes opened quickly, looking at her as if she had just spoken a foreign language, "I am going to pretend like you didn't say that."

Hermione frowned, "it's not as though you ever said." Her reply came out a little more annoyed than she intended, but she wasn't a mind-reader, and she shouldn't be expected to be.

"If this is another one of your former opinions of me based on a thirteen-year-old version of myself, I would quite like to remind you that you walloped me in the face for that already," Draco said with a half-smirk as his eyes remained closed, something that was annoying her slightly. "Of course I do, anyone with half a brain can see that Hermione. I was half bloody tempted to snog you in front of Weasley outside the hearing."

"You wanted to kiss me after your trial?"

His entire frame freezing as he swallowed, she knew he realised his mistake, but she wasn't going to let this drop for love or money, "okay… yes but —"

"—  _Oh_  my god! —"

"— Okay before you inflate your bird's nest, I had just escaped being put in hell, so my feelings were a little... confused," Draco blushed as she grinned proudly. "I won't live this down will I?'

"Not in this lifetime. I can't believe you; you wanted to kiss me!"

"I have already said I liked you, is it so difficult to imagine that I could desire your lips too," Draco teased as he pulled her closer, her hair dangling down around their faces as he stared at her intently. "You, are beautiful Hermione Granger. Only fools would disagree."

Her lips rolling together as she fought a smile, "you aren't ugly I suppose —"

The rest of her words silenced as he tickled her mercilessly, her laughter painting the room and his face as the glisten in his eyes returned as tears of laughter began to build in hers.

Hermione felt the moment. It was one of those moments that she felt compelled to say the words that would change the two of them, but words that were necessary. There had been those little looks that he would give her, or there would be a twinkle in his eyes, and she would taste them on the tip of her tongue at the sight. She didn't want to be like those other girls, the ones who ruin a good thing and say too much too soon, but she wasn't sure she could contain them either.

Those girls, however, hadn't waited since October to get Draco in a compromising position. She rolled onto her side, all ready to say something to him when he frowned looking at her side as she did so. She could feel his fingers grazing over the scar that she had gotten in the Department of Mysteries, and she wondered why only now he had noticed it. It wasn't as though she ever attempted to hide it; she felt no need to. Yes, there had been times she was embarrassed, but she also wanted someone to accept her just as she was. Hermione never wanted a half-hearted kind of love; she wanted the love her parents had, the one she hoped they still did have.

"Draco?" She breathed as he looked at it intently; his jaw was tensing and his eyes getting more and more fierce as he stared for what felt like an hour at the site.

"This was from a Death Eater," he murmured, just loud enough for her to hear.

Hermione pulled the sheet up, hoping to bring his attention back to her but he shoved the sheets back. Draco looked frustrated, a look that she hadn't seen on him in quite some time. It annoyed her immensely, this was her body, and it was so long ago it didn't affect her at all, so why should it him? It wasn't as though she had hidden it? She had been nothing but bare every time she had been in his bed or arms lately, their clothes seemingly unable to stay on anymore.

"Wasn't it?" His tone was sharp, Hermione not knowing that he had expected her to answer flicked her hair from her shoulder.

"Well yes," Hermione began, and he tugged his hand back to him as if she was dirty and this infuriated her more. "You aren't seriously pretending you haven't seen this? It's bright red, purple even in some lights. It's a bloody  _eye-sore_!"

Draco turned his head away from her. Hermione could feel a wave of anger that had been sat well below the surface begin to bubble; all the pleasant thoughts she had thought - gone, faded. All the hope that he had changed wasted away and even now, as he was unwilling to even to be an adult about this fired her up even more. There were some things she could forgive and let go when it came to boys, but when they stuck their heads in the sand was not one of them. She didn't want to be the strongest person in a relationship, that was not a role she wanted. Hermione also didn't want him to look at her exactly as he was, with pity.

For the longest time that was all she had gotten, whether it be over the scars that stood boldly against her skin that she had accepted and moved on from or the loss of her parent's memories. It had taken her moving back to Hogwarts, and it had taken being away from her friends to be okay with who she was finally. She didn't need to go through that entire process again with him; he had no right to have that from her since he was not someone that even cared when she had received them.

Hermione could feel a bitterness twisting up inside of her, anger that he had ruined a moment she had prepared herself for and the look still spread across his face. She felt dirty, she felt broken and disgusting, and while the look may not have been intended for her, she took it personally.

"So… Am I disgusting to you now? Now that you've finally noticed my body is marred with more scars than you have from people that dined at your house," even as the words ran from her mouth she knew she had gone too far. Hermione knew that he hadn't pulled from her for that reason, and she quickly wanted to say that, but he had turned his head to face her with such anger she was surprised she hadn't fallen dead.

"Is that what  _you really think_?" Draco hissed, throwing the sheet from his legs and standing up, his hand thrusting out and his mouth opened as if he was going to accompany his action with words but changed his mind. "That… I think you're disgusting? Because, Hermione, if you do, get the fuck out!" His hand reached for his shirt, throwing his arms into it. "I'm serious Hermione, get out!" His jaw tensed beyond belief, and she was paralysed to the bed, her mouth falling open slightly but unable to speak. "Un-fucking-believable," he hissed, not willing to even look at her or give her a second to protest before he flung himself out of the bedroom and slamming the door shut behind him.

Tears began to form in her eyes, but she wouldn't let them fall. She was stronger than this; she was stronger than him. A tear still fell to her cheek, and her eyes remained fixed on the door.

"No," she whispered, bringing the sheet up under her chin. "I don't…"

_And she really didn't think that, but it was far too late._

* * *

**April 17th, 1999**

* * *

_Look at me._

Draco's eyes were burning into the back of her head that was resting on her forearm, the lesson he should be focused on was the last thing on his mind. It had been far too long since they had spoken, his bed had been far too cold without her and words just didn't seem to want to be spoken when he was near her. He felt like he had been broken in half, their smiles and happiness evading them both.

He admitted outside of her door the very next morning that he had been irrational, that while he tried to improve himself continuously, her accusations had hit a nerve. He got no response from her, and it about killed him, it felt like she did anyways. As if he had taken a stinging hex to the chest and felt it corrode through his bones. Draco had never been one to dwell on emotions, but the declaration bubble in his chest had been simmering there for days before their fight. A fight he shouldn't have started, a fight he shouldn't have walked away from.

Please, just show me you are okay.

The coldness of the air catching him off guard as he followed her out of the Great Hall, the others looking at him questioningly as he left the table without a word or whisper. Hermione's eyes were shooting him a glare as she trudged on, her direction seemingly undecided as he hurried his steps, hers seeming to speed up as they exited the building.

Just stop, he hissed in his mind, not daring to speak them in case he earned a hex from her for telling her what to do. Draco had witnessed her skill at Defense to know not to get on the wrong side of her, and his clicking jaw was another proof of her anger. He had quite enjoyed a hex-free month so far, the other students seeming to keep their distance from him as of late.

The wind brushed through his hair as the two of them near broke out into a run, her wild curls blowing behind her in the wind and the wet drizzle that was painting the grass. His fingers reaching to grasp her, to stop her, to halt her and tell her to just quit it.

"What!?" Hermione snapped, her eyes raking him with disdain as he let go of her coat.

"You… what do you want me to do? What will stop you from being this… _and be you again?_ "

Draco watched her forehead relax; her gritted teeth release as her lips thinned out into a line as her shoulders sunk from near around her chin. It was a look that should have made him run, but his feet were firmly on the soil. He supposed he could have worded it better, but this was not his comfort zone. Emotions were fickle things, words were even more fickle, and he was not a master at them or would he ever be.

Hermione kicked the ground softly, her hands burying in her pocket as she gazed just above him, "I need you to leave me alone, okay? I need to avoid you until I calm down—"

"— What? Why!?"

"Because I don't want to be that girl. I don't want to be someone who just… allows you to behave like that," she snapped loudly. "You stormed out; you left me in your bed all night. Draco I sobbed! And… some speech outside my door doesn't cut it. I just need time and space. I'm not one of those girls who you can wrap around your finger -"

"- Quit assuming you know anything about me," he said interrupting her. "You don't have that right when you don't even hear me out."

Hermione folded her arms, her teeth biting the inside of her mouth, "I currently don't care to hear you out, I wish for you to go."

"No."

"No?" Hermione questioned as he stood boldly.

The word made him feel a confidence he hadn't known he could feel, it made him feel strong and bold, and he relished in it. He refused to walk away, from her, from them. "I get the whole  _you want to be in control thing_  Hermione, but this is ridiculous. I told you that I —"

Her head dipped, and her hair coated her face, hiding her from view. He waited to see her eyes and watched as they moved over the ground hearing her sigh rather loudly, even over the wind, "I want a love story that rivals all love stories, Draco. I want to be the centre of someone's world, and I want to be somebody's everything. I want pure, untouched and gentle love, because it shouldn't be hard to love me, it should be easy. Like breathing. You looked at me like you'd rather set me on fire, you told me to get the fuck out before even letting me explain!" Draco began to feel himself frown, he knew he hadn't done right by her, but he was sure some of this wasn't all him, he was sure of it. "I don't want to be just… I don't want someone to look at me like a victim. I can't explain it, but I don't want to be that to you, when I can be something and everything to someone else. I want to be your everything."

The wind chose that moment to blow around them, flowers and blossom began dancing around their feet as he actually felt the weight of her words, staring at her and seeing how fragile she was. He knew that this wasn't the time, although he knew those words would heal the wounds. She would know, and he would have said them, and they'd fall back together like the perfect pieces they were.

"You don't know that it would be hard. You don't," Draco murmured as Hermione avoided his eyes. "You don't know that I am incapable of feeling those feelings for you. You haven't even spoken to me about them." Her eyes continued to find whatever was behind him far more interesting and it dawned on him what she meant, what she was really saying beneath all her words and all her avoidance. "You don't believe I can, do you?" He whispered utterly heartbroken.

"Draco…" she swallowed as he shook his head, the bitter taste in his throat rising as he stared at her, feeling as though this was them breaking up, without them ever even being together.

"You don't think I can love you  _right_ … not even letting me try; you're making that choice for me," he continued as she took a few steps back, her hair falling from behind her ears to hide a part of her face from his view. "You'd rather have none of me than part of me… come on, tell me that I am wrong."

Hermione's eyes looked up, full of tears that wished to spill but was clinging on for dear life unwilling to fall. "I am terrified of you," her words breaking as they left her lips and shattered what was left of him. "That what we could be, scares me to my very core… but I am more scared that you'd leave, that you'd give up when it's hard. Because that's what you do, you, walk away. You, walked away!"

His hand reaching out as she yanked her arm back, a tear falling from her eye in the sudden movement, "don't leave… don't, box me out when I love... I love you, Hermione."

Her head began to shake, the fragility of the words seeming to break in the air and not bask over her as they were intended to. "I can't do this… I have to; I can't… You can't say those things just because you're scared," she cried, her cheeks shining with her tears, shaking her head as she moved from him back to the castle.

Draco turned, watching her as she trudged back up to the castle, his hand running through his hair as he felt his own pain surfacing in his eyes. He felt unsteady; he felt like he was half of what he used to be. Draco had begun to feet strong with her around, that he was more than a failure and a powerful surname. That he was more than good looks and intelligence, that he was someone worthy of something greater than he even knew.

He felt a mixture of many things as he watched her move from his view, a crazed level of emotions building in him that he wasn't sure what to do with. Draco felt immense pain, moving all the way into the depths of his chest and into his throat before filling his head. He knew he had needed her, desired her from the very first touch of her bare skin but the rest, it had blindsided him. He felt overthrown and like he was drowning with no escape plan. He felt scared, just like she had described and most of all he felt broken.

Eventually, his feet began moving in the direction she had taken, his heart having decided the course of action before his brain had agreed to the idea, his steps much quicker than hers, hoping that he'd catch her before she got to their common room, that he'd see her before the others.

Moving through the courtyard, pushing up the grand staircase as he near ran into Dean, a grin etching over his fellow year mates face that he attempted to replicate, forgetting how bizarre it would look upon his face.

"Woah, hey! We've been looking for you."

"Yeah, can I come find you in a minute," Draco's eyes looking over his shoulder, not able to see her up the first few staircases.

"You alright? You look like…" something in his eyes made him focus back on him and not the staircases that were now moving "Have you argued with Hermione?"

"No," he exclaimed rather quickly as his friend looked at him knowingly. "Fine, maybe. Why?"

Dean looked over his shoulder, moving him to the side of the staircase away from the students moving around them as they headed back to their dormitories.

"She's just dashed past me, tears and all."

"She's vexatious at times, that's all," Draco attempted knowing within a second it wasn't washing with Dean at all. "Thomas it's not —"

"— You love her," he said breathlessly as his eyes drooped.

"Dean, listen —"

"— And, she loves you… doesn't she?"

Draco swallowed painfully, what had once been a pain in just his chest was now a deep, open wound, guilt bleeding out as he looked at his friend. The way his eyes wandered the floor before looking up, waiting for an answer of some kind, but all he had was an answer he wouldn't like.

"Why are you fighting Draco?"

He looked at him oddly, the use of his first name so unusual on his lips.

"Draco… why are you fighting?"

Draco licked his lips, "because…" his hand raising to itch his forehead before running over his face, "she thinks I can't love her, like that. She won't even let me, and it's just..." He gritted his teeth, "frustrating."

Dean snorted, his mouth opened to say something Draco expected to be some annoyance from him and expected to hear that he was an awful person. But instead, he just patted him on the shoulder, walking past him. "Love, is not easy. Trust me," Dean chuckled as Draco groaned. "I have to go send an owl," Dean continued with a smile, Draco watching him dumbfounded. "Some of us have the balls to tell someone how we really feel and not be afraid when things go in a different direction."

* * *

**April 24th, 1999**

* * *

Hermione didn't know why she chose to sit in the armchair parallel to the door of the portrait, she knew he'd walk through the door at any moment, and she'd have this whole trouble again. But she needed to end it better than that; she needed to end all of this with truth and with meaning. There were far too many scraps of parchment on her desk, littered with tears and bad spelling mistakes from being blinded by her pain. She needed to say her piece and walk away.

That was what she had convinced herself and as the minutes passed her choice changed each time until she met his eyes and she felt her heart skip in her chest.

"Hermione okay, just —"

"— No you listen," rising to her feet as she breathed in what she hoped would help her be more confident. "For the first time in your entire life, listen to someone else that isn't moaning about how large your cock is or over inflating your enormous ego."

Hermione's hands were reaching out for his, his hands slipping in hers as she tried to ignore how right it felt, almost as if they fitted together like a puzzle. She began leading him to the armchair before seating him in it with force.

Hermione sighed, psyching herself up for the speech she had said so often in her head. "I am tired, okay? Of all of this. I think when we kissed, it unlocked something in me that I didn't know was there. But, since… I think I have been in love with you and I am so bleeding tired of it and you being so utterly blind to it… You don't get to make this ok, you don't get to be your normal self whilst I am dealing with this —"

"— I am in love with you," Draco said over her and she felt the words fade from her mind as her mouth remained open, shocked and surprised. Hermione watched him as he slowly rose to his feet, not even sure if she had made it up in her head from desperation as his hand hooked around her cheek. "When you walked away, it was all I wanted to shout at you. Every time I have held you, every time I have got a chance to just feel you against me… I want you to be happy, so happy. For a while I thought I couldn't do that, that I didn't deserve to try and give you that but seeing you hurt, seeing that I failed —"

"— Draco —"

"— No, Hermione, this is when you have to listen," Draco smiled as he tilted her head to look up at him, her heart beating in her ears. "You are right; you are always right. What you don't get is that I do believe in both you and us. But I am scared. Fear is what has stopped me, but honestly, the biggest thing was that you have become my best friend. You're the other half of me, and I didn't want to ruin that by speaking too soon and telling you that I loved you."

"You're an idiot."

Draco smirked, "an idiot yes, handsome yes. In love with you… an extreme yes."

His lips were pressing down against her lips as she smiled into the kiss, not being able to find fault at the moment at all. She could get lost in this moment; she could drown all in this moment.

* * *

**April 30th, 1999**

* * *

Draco cold-hearted Malfoy, was crazily, stupidly, over his heels in love with the witch beside him and truthfully, he didn't know what to do with it. He had woke up just before the strike of midnight, not sure what had caused it but he didn't complain. He quite liked her silent, all of her silent. No whirring brain that made her frown or her nose twitch, even if he found that adorable and fetching. There was no argument about who was right, when he knew he was.

It was silent, it was him and her and no interruptions.

Draco pulled her close, feeling her sigh as he kissed her bare shoulder and promised himself when she opened her eyes, he would tell her. That when she disembarked from the train in two months time all ready to tell her friends what had changed in her, that he would stand by her, because he wanted to stand by her always. That he hadn't ever told a girl that he loved them, even if she didn't believe him.

Draco would promise her that he would remain calm and he would bite his tongue, which in itself was a testament to how much she meant to him. He wouldn't let their judgements change him, her or them. He would be her strength and her rock like she had been for him. He wanted to promise that this wasn't a here and now thing, but a thing forever and that he had already sent a letter to his mother on the matter.

It was his mother that really gave him the push, her letter was to the point and ruthlessly worded with a point to be kind but seeming the opposite. He hadn't expected her to understand in a night and he happened just to be pleased he hadn't received a Howler. His mother had wishes, and he would do his best to obey them, but in her own way, in the only way a mother could with her son, she understood. If his mother could, then he could learn to accept Potter and Weasley, as uncomfortable as that seemed now.

Draco knew that this was his chance, to step up and be something more than who he was and he wanted to be more than just him, for her. That even if she wavered and needed time, he would wait because, Draco felt as though he had already wasted far too much time in waiting to get to know the real her, he wasn't prepared to wait any longer not when he knew, not when he felt the way he did.

Hermione was it. She was everything. She was his all, and the realisation of that made him smile, resting his head on the pillow as he closed his eyes, basking in the feel of having her.

Of being in love.

Draco kissed her forehead, her eyes flickering before opening and dousing him with those doe eyes he could drown in. His lips were parting ready to take hers when a loud thump at the door made him jump from her, near tumbling from the bed. The two of them grabbed for their wands out of instinct; the sheet pulled up to her chest hiding her lace covered body as he inched from the bed and let his feet gently touch the ground.

Another thump came.

"Get the door,  _Draco_ ," Hermione hissed in a whisper. His eyes were glaring at her, wanting to tell her that she was a third of the trio that took down a madman and that she should go. "Draco!" She hissed louder.

"I'm fucking going," he snarled, moving slowly to the door, his wand raised in case the person on the other side charged through.

"Draco!"

He spun on his heel to stare at her, "what?!"

"Hurry up!"

Draco licked his lips angrily before biting down on his lower lip, his finger pointing as he nodded his head, "Hermione… shut the fuck up, okay? In a nice way -"

Draco put his hand on the doorknob, bracing for whatever was on the other side when he heard, " _why don't you make me_." It was said in the sweetest, most flirtatious voice he had heard from her, and if he hadn't already turned the door handle, he would have abandoned it altogether and dashed back to the bed. His eyes were barely able to focus on the person on the other side as her voice travelled out of the door.

"I'd rather you  _didn't_ ," a voice said, and Draco mouth dropped open, the two of them meeting the eyes of Harry Potter, and Draco was sure his swallow could be heard at the Manor in Wiltshire.

* * *

**xox**


	10. May

**AN: Penultimate** chapter guys. How did we get here? Ugh, anyways, enough of the emotional stuff. Thank you so much for sticking with me till 'May', I am so glad you are loving it.

I am also loving seeing how many of you have gone over to work out the mystery that is The Abyss, you are all on for a long and rough ride.

* * *

 **Beta Love:**  The sparkle in this diamond, Dramieylo, this would all be a mess without her.

* * *

**May 1st, 1999**

* * *

Hermione had practically jumped from the bed at the sight of her best friend, her hands grasping for the sheet as she attempted to save some face. Harry was averting his eyes, her state of undress clearly making him more uncomfortable than the realisation that she was here with his childhood enemy, a thought that made her more embarrassed.

She could feel the tension in the room reaching a breaking point as the dormitory door closed, her attempts at soothing her raging heart was failing, and she didn't know what was for the best. On the one hand, Hermione wished to stand directly by Draco and put on a united front. The other, slowly wished for the ground to swallow her because it was quite clear what the two of them had been up to and she knew she wouldn't be able to claim anything less.

" _Potter_ ," Draco went to say, but her friend's eyes were only on her, piercing into her as if he wanted her personal thoughts. She tried to read them, guess what version of her friend she was going to be dealing with and she attempted to calm her breathing. "Whatever you must be thinking, it is not as though I -"

"-  _Hermione_?" Harry said, cutting over Draco as she felt the air disappear from her chest.

The word. The name. It snapped her out of her thoughts, her feet gliding across the cold stone floor with ease. Her hand finding its way into Draco's as she wrapped her fingers around his. There were no words that could make this less awkward, but an action might.

Hermione found that his fingers wrapped around hers with the same need, she wanted to meet his eyes and read his worries, but she didn't want to break contact with Harry. She could already feel her heart in her throat, the contents of her dinner threatening to revolt at the situation and the urge to pace back and forth was heightening.

If she didn't think it could, or would get any worse, Harry rubbed his forehead and averted his eyes. "Ron is here," he whispered. The words were slicing through the moment as she gripped onto Draco's hand, unwilling to let him go when she knew he would want nothing more than to run from her. "Are you two..."

Draco looked to her, and she could see the walls coming up behind his eyes, she hoped that this wouldn't change them. She hoped he would remain by her side and see this as one more hill to get over. She hoped that they were not about to take several steps back, but then he silenced her fears as he tightened his fingers around hers and stared boldly into green eyes. The bubble inside of her that had been growing diminished as she watched him smile, all her fears falling from her as if someone had applied a spell and she almost felt free.

"I guessed as much," Harry said. His tone was so bland it was hard to make out any emotion behind it, almost as if someone else had said it for him and it was just his carcass stood before them. Harry's hand ran up the back of his head, his eyes closing as he lifted his head to face the ceiling. " _Fuck…_ "

Hermione attempted to straighten her frame, her eyes blinking several times to mask any emotion. " _I don't have to_ explain this or myself -"

"- I'm not asking you for  _that_ , Hermione!" Harry quickly said as she took a deep breath. Being interrupted was a pet peeve for her, and while she excused Harry for so long for it, she didn't wish to set a precedent for anyone else. "He's waited for you.  _You know that, right?_  You know, Ron? Out there, come to surprise you."

" _Oi_ ," Draco warned, and she clutched onto his hand tighter as Harry turned away from them. A flicker of fire igniting in her stomach at Draco's protectiveness. "Don't push your luck here, Potter. I will attempt the thing the bloody nose-less bastard couldn't do if you don't talk to her with some respect!" His eyes full of lightning, and she wasn't sure she could get anymore attracted to him if she tried.

Hermione took a deep breath, attempting to put those thoughts to the back of her mind as she turned to face her friend. Hoping to diffuse the situation, she cleared her throat, "Harry, I love you, but you don't get to do this. You don't have to do this, you don't have to make everything right," the words tumbling freely from her mouth now. She watched him turn around, his hands clawing through his hair as she stood strong, not willing to fold and let him make her feel guilty. Not for this, not when it all felt so right. "Ronald and I," she said as plainly as she could. "Are over, it was a kiss, a… test of boundaries but, if he really thinks there is something there for him he is wrong."

Harry turned on his heel, looking at her before looking at the man she was unwilling to let go of. Draco was simmering with anger over the intrusion, and she suspected that he didn't feel safe, she recognised his mannerisms as the same that she had seen the night he had come into the common room covered in blood and bruises. She liked holding his hand, for this reason, it felt like that night. It felt like everything made sense just as it did then, perfect, fragmented and different, but it was always perfect. She didn't know why they fit together so well, but they did. For once, Hermione didn't even want to question it; she didn't want to ruin it because Christ almighty they did that enough themselves. Even knowing how Ron felt, it didn't change a thing. She waited years for him, but she realised she had been waiting for the wrong person.

"Him… really?"

Draco glared, his eyes flickering with fire, "you, Potter. Do not get to judge something that you do not understand -"

"- What I know, Malfoy, is that you've bedded my best friend and she is currently attempting to pass this off as something real -"

"- IT IS something real," Draco hissed, the tone sending shockwaves through her filling her with pride. "Don't you fucking dare, don't…" Draco's hand was pointing out before shaking it mid-air, losing the words before he grunted and turned from them both, taking his hand from hers and moving behind them.

Hermione looked over her shoulder, seeing his shoulder blades tense and she wanted to soothe him, but the confusion was mounting over who needed her more. The wish to answer and fix was building, "Harry…" the green eyes still burning a hole into the back of the blond. "Harry," Hermione said sharper, and he looked at her. "I never judged you, not once."

He moved closer, and she saw her words simmer whatever was conflicting inside of him. "You are like a sister to me," he whispered, his eyes telling the rest of the tale and she wished that they were spoken in a different language. She didn't want to know what his worries were; she didn't. Life had been confusing enough, books barely helping with that. "Him… really?" He asked softer, and she smiled, slowly nodding. "Are you sure, are you happy?"

"Harry," Hermione whispered, her weight shifting side to side like a love sick teenager. She lifted her face to meet his eyes, hoping the look in them expressed it enough to match the tone of her words. "I love him, Harry."

* * *

He didn't know why he was doing this.

He didn't understand why he needed to be here for this.

A lion meet-up, where the snake gets gutted, did not seem like something he wished to be a part of. Yet, here he was getting dressed for the girl who was currently muttering darkly under her breath and getting herself into a state. Draco wanted nothing more than to walk over, take her by the hips and hold her, but he knew Hermione. This was not a moment that she needed him, that was a moment she needed to clear her own path.

Draco turned his back to her, staring out of the window and seeing the relaxing environment outside; the environment that had no idea of the carnage that was about to break out inside the stone walls. Weasley was never one for thinking straight. From the looks of things since their sixth year he had not learnt to control his temper or his jealousy, and Draco feared this was going to be a lot for the fire-haired man to take, the girl of his dreams had been taken, and he knew he would be a little more than annoyed at the idea.

 _Ugh_ , he hissed to himself and grimaced at the very thought.  _Did I just sympathise with Weasley?_

He had no time to contemplate this matter, a pair of warm hands smoothing out over his hips as he looked over his shoulder to see his witch smiling.

"Would you still love me if I hid in here while you hexed  _Weasley_?" He smirked.

" _You_ , are incredibly cute," her fingers letting him go before finding his hand and squeezing it gently. While he would normally rebuke her calling him 'cute', he could feel how nervous she was and how alive with fear her body was.

Draco felt as though he had taken a breath and as soon as he let the air flood out of his lungs, he was there. Green eyes were sending daggers into his soul hoping to maim and mark him the same as his wand had done in sixth year. It was the blue eyes that worried him. The blue, utterly broken and full of despair, eyes that were staring right through him.

It was the mouth that was by them; the tongue that was attached to them. It was the need to pull Hermione back beside him as she shouted back and it was the way the room began to spin at the arguments that started to make him fear for his own life.

" _HIM_! Really ' _Mione_? Are you  _that_  desperate?"

Draco found that his body was becoming heavy, his legs not holding the same strength as they had done prior as he heard Hermione shout, "how bloody mature of you Ronald!" He wanted to grab onto her, to him, to anyone as the room began to spin more viciously.

"You said you needed time, that then we would talk!" Ron hissed. Draco's heart was pounding so hard against his chest that he wasn't sure it would remain safely behind his ribs for much longer. "He's a Death Eater!"

Hermione sigh cut through the tension, but it didn't soothe him. " _Ron_ , he isn't that man."

"No, he's the man that apparently you let between your legs," Ron snarled, and usually Draco would have raised his wand, but he could barely stand. Unsure of exactly he was leaning against, but he liked that it was solid, he revelled in it. Draco prayed to the heavens, fathers and bloody spirits that he wouldn't pass out; he whispered numbers hoping they would calm him, just like that bloody book had told him too.

"This isn't just sexual,  _Ronald_. Not that you and your one-minded brain can allow the possibility," Hermione screeched, and the high pitched sound nearly snapped him in half. It was a tone full of pain, hurt and anger. He couldn't do anything about it; no one was paying him any attention, and he wished they would.

" _Shut up_ ," he muttered, but it was no use because it was simply lost in the screaming that he was sure had made an audience. "Shut up," he said a little louder, hearing more shouting from more voices and he just hoped they were real.

Flashbacks and flickering images of torture, of screaming, of her. Desperate brown eyes were begging for help, her scream as that word, that offensive thing was carved into her. Blood, blood and horribly cold bodies staring at him. He could feel his nails scratching at his face and with each image, the desperation to claw out his own mind increased. Feeling closer to breaking at every second he held on, wanting to just let go, to just collapse.

"SHUT UP!" The room silenced and he opened his eyes, many faces suddenly upon him as he tried to level his breathing. Draco moved his hand from his cheek, running it through his blond fringe as he felt the sweat building on his brow. "Please, just…  _shut up_."

The solid wall he had been leaning against, moved. Draco was slowly turning his head to see the confused green eyes as he found an arm that was not his own propping him up.

"But," Ron tried, and Draco saw Harry silence him with a glare.

Draco began to take slow breaths, finding that whatever had disappeared from his legs was slowly coming back and he knew he could support himself. The old him would have shrugged himself off, claimed he was being a martyr rather than suffer the embarrassment of admitting the truth. This version of him, this better but broken version instead stared boldly into the Chosen One's eyes and said the only thing he could.

"I have PTSD." He heard a scoff and assumed it belonged to Weasley but he didn't dignify him with a look. Draco kept his eyes on Harry, knowing that really it was only him that he wanted the respect and blessing from. "Shouting, can be...  _a trigger for me_. So I have found." Draco shivering as he remembered the arguments at the Manor, the ones that kept him awake, the ones he would overhear and the screams that would come that ended them.

Harry seemed to frown but didn't comment on anything else as Draco straightened himself, adjusting his shirt from the twisted fashion it had been in. He moved his eyes to Hermione, her mouth was slightly parted in shock, and he just nodded, assuring her that he was okay.

Draco stepped passed her, touching her elbow just slightly knowing that she needed the contact as much as him as he stood before Ron. The very boy that had snorted at him on their very first day, the boy that he was cruel to and mocked. The boy that helped save his life.

"Ronald Weasley," Draco said without any tone, his hand thrust out in front of him. "I am Draco Malfoy and  _I, am in love_ with your best friend." He watched Ron look from him to Harry, a bemused and confused expression on his face. "While I know I will never be good enough for her; I hope to try to be every single day. I don't wish to fight anymore, with any of you," his head turning to meet Harry's as well, hating how much this tasted but the witch in question was worth the bitter taste he knew would be left behind. " _Friends_  may be a push," he smiled with a smirk. "But the odd  _Firewhisky_  here and there wouldn't be so bad would it?"

He turned his attention back to the man before him, the man who had the decision in his hand and he only hoped that he was more mature now than he ever had been. Not because Draco rested his future with Hermione on him, but because he had lost far too much and would not allow her the same. If he had to be nice, he would play nice. He may spike his drink when he came around, he may place warming charms on him when his back was turned, but he would be polite to his face.

"You don't deserve  _her_ ," Ron asserted.

Draco smirked, "I  _know_. You don't think she reminds me of that very fact?"

Ron nodded half-heartedly, shaking his hand as the two slowly nodded in approval at one another. "You'll still alway be a  _bouncing ferret_  to me, Malfoy."

"You, will always be a  _weasel_ , Weasley."

* * *

**May 15th, 1999**

* * *

If Draco had thought that his nightmare would end with Weasley, he was wrong. Three days later he had received not one, not two, but three red letters all in different handwriting.

At first, he had braced himself for hate, expecting the letters to be hexed and would burn him if he even touched them. Instead, inside, he found words that were not expected, and he had to get Hermione to check the handwriting to be sure.

Potter, being Potter till he died, included a list of leaflets from Muggle specialists and even offered to make him an appointment.

The second was from Ronald, clearly having had several  _epiphanies_  and more threats that he felt compelled to write them down. Not that Draco was really concerned with having to deal with them, as most of them meant he would have to hurt Hermione. Draco was sure with her right hook that she was going to provide far more damage to him that vice-versa.

The third, the most  _interesting_ , was from the Auror department and they were offering a job he had not asked or inquired about, but had secretly always wanted.

' _It's morally right, you should thank him_ ' she had said, his teeth digging into her skin as he attempted to block out the Weasel's name upon her lips. Draco was full of spite at how much she sounded like his mother and hating how he agreed that courtesy and gratitude was necessary. He had been happy with the owl declaring his thanks and that he would agree to the terms of his, 'ferret head being put on a stick outside the 'Burrow' for all to see', if he did hurt Hermione. It was the second owl that bugged him.

She sighed as he paced the floor of his bedroom, "it is an invite to celebrate the end of NEWTs."

"It is an invitation for me to be placed under the watchful eye of the many. I am not an idiot, Hermione. Do not make me out to be one," his tone was to the point as he re-read the letter for the thousandth time that evening.

Hermione settled down onto his sheets, her hair fanning out over the pillow and he hated how she looked just like a goddess when she did. "Is it so bad that you are invited?" His eyes were burning his answer plainly into her, yes.

Hermione frowned, "I think it is a little rude if you don't."

"They don't want me there," his foot sliding up and down the floor, his hands moving into his pockets as he avoided her eyes. "Not really. It is just them being polite."

Hermione's eyes glistened, her smile flickering up and down her cheek as she watched the usually confident man wilter in front of her. His guard was lowering as he began to trust her more, even with things he deemed silly. She rose from the pillow, shuffling down the bed as he paced past her and she stopped him with a grip on his arm. "I want you there," her hand moving down slowly, reaching out. "I would love you to be there," as she stood, her fingers grazing his chest as she raised her chin to look at him. "That has to count for something, right?"

Draco felt a smile want to appear as it tugged at the corner of his mouth, he breathed in as he lost himself in her eyes, "I'm not a good person. I am not a good enough man, that is all they will say and I already know that. I know, better than any of them, that I am not a good man."

" _Said a good man_ ," Hermione countered, and he hated how righteous she sounded, how confident she was in him. It only made his fears grow more than he would let her down. "I really wish you could see the way that I see you," her hand brushing against his cheek as his cheeks flushed with warmth. "I wish you could see the man I have in front of me and not the one that haunts your mirror."

Draco sighed, subconsciously moving his head into her hand, "you have far too much Gryffindor in you." His eyes were watching hers flash with glee, "you have too much faith in people. Someone will let you down." I will let you down, he spoke with his eyes.

He watched her lick her lips, the tip of her pink tongue gracing the air. He could see the cogs in her mind turning, the crazed thoughts of the bookworm already to erupt all over him.

Once upon a time, he would have hated it, not now though. He loved the insights into Hermione's thinking, often finding that they are so similar to his own, but she was unafraid to speak them. Hermione was always strong, always brave. Draco remembered thinking in his sixth year when the world was on his shoulders, how come she was never tired of trying. She never faltered, she was always rooting.

Salazar, he loved that about her.

Hermione let out a small breath through her teeth, one that caught his attention as her fingers traced down his arm, moving to his wrist as she pulled his hand from his pockets. She slowly brought their clasped hands into the air in front of them, her palm pressing against his. The touch of their skin was burning him in the best kind of way, the way he never wanted to stop.

"Draco…" she said in the most honest way possible, and he knew, he could feel the words before they were spoken. They would change, but for once he didn't think it was for the worst. He loved her; love was always the answer. "Our hands don't fit inside one another's perfectly. Your presence doesn't take my breath away —"

Fear began to mount, old wounds slowly opening as he wanted to wrench his hand from her. No, he thought harshly in his mind. Her fingers were filling the spaces between his and unwilling to let him go.

He cleared his throat, ignoring her words and interrupting her because this couldn't be happening, he couldn't lose her. "— I'm not sure where you are going with this, but I promise it's not as heartwarming as you probably think. I mean… often than not you're  _fucking_  right, and I hate admitting that, but this… is not as sweet as you may think."

Hermione sighed as she placed a larger smile on her lips as if she knew the inside secret but was keeping it from him purposefully. "My point is... love isn't  _perfect_. It's not meant to be like it is in literature. Because in reality, no one wants perfect."

"Everyone wants  _perfect_ ," Draco replied.

"Okay..." she shrugged as she grinned even larger. "Well you aren't perfect," Draco's eyes narrowed, and he felt a gash in his chest from her words, a new wound and one that hurt more than the others ever had. "I'm especially not perfect. So if everyone wants perfect at least, no one wants us."

"Granger..." Draco warned, taking his hand from hers and wanting to walk from her, but felt compelled to stay but for safety, he took a step back. He wanted to have space; he wanted to build something between them that would mean this, whatever she was doing, wouldn't hurt when she finished.

She steps closer to him, his breath sucking in, "I want  _you,_  Malfoy. I want  _imperfect_ , messy and unexpected love with  _you_." Her hand was weaving into his as her thin fingers spread between his, "and I'm not going anywhere. I want you, all of you."

"But..." his head dipping, realising where she had been heading the entire time. "I'm bad, wrong."

"Then, I want bad and wrong," Hermione smiled. "I want you; nothing can stop me from wanting you. Not my friends, not your friends… My heart wants you."

Confidence began to flush over him as if someone had poured it over the top of his head and he closed the gap between them, banishing the wall he had wished to build. "You love me?"

"Maybe," she whispered, his fingers snaking up into her curls as he relished in the softness of them.

"You, are an  _awful_  liar."

Hermione pursed her lips, "someone is confident again?"

"I love you also," he said, ignoring her tease as she slowly smiled. "I mean, you're a  _know-it-all_  and ridiculously right and rub it in my face but, I find them endearing on you. In an odd way," he teased as he lowered his head to her lips. "I'll go," was all he said as he pressed his lips to hers, relishing in the new way they felt after their confession.

Hermione pressed a kiss to his lips that only made him hungry for more, his hand grasping at her waist to pin her lips to his as he heard her whimper at the contact. "I will kiss you," she teased as she turned her head. "If you agree to come."

Draco bit down on the tip of his tongue, staring into the brown eyes of a Gryffindor who apparently had a bit more Slytherin in her than he thought. He dipped his head before capturing her lips in a searing way, hoping the action spoke louder than any words he could use as he gripped the back of her dress and lifted her from the ground with ease.

* * *

**May 26th, 1999**

* * *

The second week of NEWTs was far worse than the first. Not only was her hair crackling with worry at the ends, but she had barely any time to speak to Draco never mind much else. She loathed how her body reacted when he was around, yearning and burning for him as he scrunched his brows as he read something. Hermione was beginning to despise how handsome he was and how much of a distraction studying with him had become.

She had thought the devilish good looks of her boyfriend was bad enough, but Theo was his own kind of annoyance.

The cockish boy who was taller than Draco in height had a habit of catching her off guard, and more often than not making her jump out of her skin. He reminded her oddly of the Weasley twins, but without their Gryffindor heart and with Slytherin deviousness that flooded off him like a bad aroma.

"Studying yourself stupid, Hermione?" Theo jested as he crunched his teeth into an apple. "If  _only_ you were taking an exam in the biology of a  _blond male_ , you would walk out of here with a  _perfect_  grade."

Hermione hadn't dignified him on several occasions, but as she looked up at him and the smirk that was spread over his lips, she knew with a heavy heart that he deserved a bone.

Placing her quill down on the book she crossed her arms, "someone a little jealous? Does Theo had a crush on a boy?"

Theo chuckled, turning the apple in his hand to reach the other side, "you, Hermione, are rather amusing. I am not into the male species; they are rather smelly for my nostrils." She laughed at this, Theo revelling in the fact he had caused her to break her mask of indifference. "Not that I am opposed to any of those who can forgive that smell," his head cocking over to a grinning Dean Thomas who was reading a letter as he headed to his room. "I just prefer breasts,  _you know_?"

"Oh," Hermione teased. "I suppose I do."

Theo raised his brow before shaking his head, "you nearly had me."

Hermione shrugged as she turned her attention back to the Runes before her. She was starting to hate her curiosity, wishing heavily that it hadn't been a subject she had picked up for NEWTs as the complexity of what was going to be in the exam was beginning to take her confidence.

Theo rested his elbows on the desk in the common room, looking at her with perplexion as he slid the book from her grasp and turned his head to read the page she was on. Hermione didn't bristle; she didn't find herself wishing to snatch the book and the change in her demeanour made her smile. In the strangest way, she had begun to notice changes in herself and Draco from the two of them being around one another.

"How does Draco deal with that?" Theo muttered.

"What?" Hermione asked in surprise.

Theo pushed the book back to her, "the steam and the whirling off your brain. It is rather… distracting," her eyes narrowing as she smirked. "Don't focus on the translation but the meaning, liken them to their  _Latin counterpart,_  and you will be all right."

Hermione looked down at the page and finding that it all suddenly made sense as she slowly began to allow a relaxed smile pass over her face. Looking up to see Theo sporting a rather fetching smug grin she almost laughed. "I am throwing it out there; I want to be best man. Because… I am  _the best man_."

Hermione frowned, only being able to see runes and translations appearing in her mind before the penny dropped and she widened her eyes. Hermione was sure that her stomach fell to the floor, panic setting in as she stared into the man's eyes.

"Got you," Theo smirked, and Hermione flicked her hand under the table and watched in amusement as he fell back from his chair, remembering when Draco had done the very same thing.

* * *

**May 31st, 1999**

* * *

Draco climbed what felt like the thousandth step that day, hating every single moment knowing where it was leading him. Although it was so close to Summer he could smell ice-cream, the bitter wind up the tower was bringing goosebumps up on his arms. Well, he hoped it was the cold, rather than the memories.

Right on queue, he heard the cackle of his Aunt, his feet pausing in their climb as he heard the soft-spoken wizard he had at wand point only a few years ago.

"Draco?"

Her voice, like a beautiful song, brought him from his reverie and the background of the sun setting in the late May evening and the birds settling for the night was a perfect backdrop. Her hair was blowing around her shoulders, looking more like an angel in the night by the second.

Hermione's hand outstretched and while he wanted to prove to himself he could take the last step by himself, he also wanted to share this moment with her. He wanted to be able to un-taint the disturbing thoughts that plagued him about this place. He wanted, new memories so to speak.

"Granger, why are we here?" Draco asked although he was already sure of the answer.

Her hand guided him to the railings, the place looking different than he remembered and he hoped that was because of its reconstruction, and not because he had blurred the memory in his mind.

Hermione rested their joined hands on the bar, as if hoping to glue him here and not allow him the chance to escape. "You'll never be able to forgive yourself if you don't let go," her eyes fixing on the hills surrounding them. "This seemed like a fitting place."

Not usually a stickler for rules, he wasn't sure why he said the next thing. Maybe it was an excuse; maybe it was because he was concerned but he spoke it with a confidence he didn't usually have. "It is late; curfew is in half an hour and -"

"- And," Hermione interrupted. "Exams are over. Our school life, is over. Our future is what is next. So, because I am always right," Draco groaning internally at her righteousness. "We are going to sit up here, enjoy some liquor that our good friend Theo acquired and we are going to toast to our future."

"You have… alcohol?"

Hermione grinned, "one day, Draco Malfoy, you will not be so surprised that I can break the rules. Plus, saying goodbye to this place means more to me."

Draco looked over the railings, images of what he imagined happened began to flood his sight, and he felt he would blink and see those warm eyes behind moon-shaped glasses. Eyes that offered to help; eyes that wanted to save.

"Draco?" Hermione said, her hand on his arm and the other on his hand. "Firewhisky?" His head was turning to the little blanket on the floor with the bottle and two glasses upon it. "You don't have to be in fear on your own," her voice barely a whisper. "I'm here, I promise."

He dipped his head, catching her forehead with his lips as he pulled her in close to him. Tears began to brim in his eyes at the gesture and the painful memories of the year he wished to forget. "Don't let me go, Hermione."

"Not even if I tried," he heard her whisper back.

* * *

**xox**


	11. June, July and More

**AN:** Dedicated to Fairystonelove, without her none of you would have had this piece.

 **Beta Love:** The sparkle in this diamond, Dramieylo, this would all be a mess without her.

* * *

**June 1st, 1999**

* * *

Hermione woke nestled into Draco's chest, fully clothed and her throat feeling as if had swallowed the entirety of Skegness beach. She wanted to move for water; for anything that would ease the dryness, but she didn't want to move from the arms that held her so tight and made her feel safe.

It is hard to recall how they had gotten back from the tower, but she assumed that the Firewhisky had helped tremendously. She remembered him attempting to undress her, and as she clenched her thighs together, she smiled proudly at her knickerless self. Flashbacks of him snapping the fabric from between her legs before his lips pressed against her thighs and his tongue danced over her heat.

In her current state, it was shocking that she had managed to remain dignified and didn't scream the place down - knowing that a Silencing charm would not have been applied in their intoxicated state. Hermione was also proud that she hadn't allowed him much more, not that he even wished to as apparently, her pleasure was all that he needed. Not sure when he had become so selfless, but she didn't question it as she wasn't even sure she could pronounce the Contraception Charm at the time with her mind muddled with liquor.

She heard him let out a shallow breath, the peaceful expression on his face making her heart swell with happiness. _He was handsome as hell, and he was hers._ While that thought had been in her mind on several occasions, it hit home then. It resonated with her that this might not be the only time that she awakes in his arms on his birthday.

She almost hoped she always would.

"I know I am handsome, Granger," Draco croaked, and she nearly fell off the bed in shock. Concern building that he had read her mind. She was sure if he hadn't of spoken again, she would have felt fury at him invading her thoughts. "But you don't need to stare at me so intently; you have me."

His arm pulled her tighter to him, and she caught a wisp of his aftershave, a musty, oak smell that she would never tire off.

"You're overconfident this morning."

She watched the corner of his mouth turn up, "I have the brightest and most beautiful witch in my bed. It is my birthday, and I do not have to hex a soul as an offering, and there is a chance I can get cake. If I weren't confident I would ask you to test my brain thoroughly," he grinned as she ran her fingers up his muscular chest.

"Happy Birthday Draco."

His arm was pulling her from his side to on top of him, his eyes only opening when she had shuffled and sat directly over his hard length. "Good morning indeed," he smirked, lifting up as she met his lips and he groaned into her lips as she rolled her hips against his. "Can it be my birthday _every day_?"

Hermione bit back a laugh, instead relishing in the feel of him against her and her thighs brushing against his hips, "it wouldn't be special."

"You're special," Draco replied, eyes glazed with adoration and lust.

She felt a blush creep over her cheeks, and she wanted to hide her face, but Draco who had seemingly already read her mind placed his hands on her chin to keep her looking directly at him.

"You're the best birthday present a man could have."

Before she lost herself entirely to the emotions, Hermione leant towards him and ensured her hips rolled into his once more as she latched onto his lips and took the gushing words from him. His hand traced up her jawline into her hair, and as she deepened the kiss, letting the passion and need take over, she wasn't sure that she had ever or could have ever been more in love that this.

* * *

**June 12th, 1999**

* * *

It was the most nerve-wracking thing.

Hermione had helped find Horcruxes, fought off Death Eaters and had stood before Voldemort; but the idea of meeting Mrs. Malfoy was terrifying. She wouldn't allow it to best her, she wouldn't change, but a part of her wanted to. A part of her wished to bend just a fraction, hoping that the change would help the aristocratic woman allow her to continue to love her son.

Not that Hermione would give him up if she didn't have her blessing.

She was surprised to find that their feet touched upon the grass of a home not at all what she had prepared for. A small cottage, hidden deep in the greenery and lavender decorating the ground around the path. If Hermione had been amazed by gardening, this would have taken her breath away. Roses bushes galore littered under the windows and the place reminded her of _The Secret Garden,_ but with a house that was lived in entirely by a woman that terrified her.

"Are you okay?"

Hermione couldn't help but smile at the man's caring nature beside her, the same man who had been hoping to put off this little _meet-up_ for as long as possible. She was sure he was more nervous than she; not that he would ever admit to such.

"I'm happy that we are here," she said truthfully. Her nightmares had been taken over by the memories at the Malfoy's former home, and even though she knew they wouldn't be going there, she had somehow still expected to land directly outside of it. "This house is…"

"The opposite of what you would expect?" Draco finished as she slowly smirked before nodding. "My mother bought this house when they would fight - my parents that is - she would come here. She said it 'reset her' or something, so as soon as the trials were over, here, she came." She wanted to ask about the Manor, what would come of it and what he would do as this place seemed far too quaint for him. "Don't let that pretty little head of yours worry about such things," Draco answered as if he had taken residence in her head. "We have other homes. Until I find something for myself I will reside in one of those."

Her lips parted to ask how many homes exactly they had, but she was interrupted by the opening of the large oak door that looked too big to be opened by such a thin woman. Hermione's eyes immediately met the warm grey ones of Mrs Malfoy, flashbacks of the trial and their eyes meeting as she tried to contain her pain of watching her son fall so far down. Even now, knowing all was well, it still broke Hermione to know that this woman had suffered through her son's trial with so much dignity.

"Draco," Mrs Malfoy said with warmth. Her arms were opening as he released her hand and greeted his mother. It was a moment that Hermione wasn't sure she should be here for, realising suddenly that the two of them had not seen one another since August and a lot had happened since then.

"Well," the older witch suddenly spoke. "Miss Granger, it is… a pleasure to meet you for much happier reasons." While her lips were pulled into a straight line, Hermione was sure that this was a warm greeting and proceeded to smile uncomfortably. "My son, he has… spoke highly of you in our letters."

Hermione raised her brow at the man who had begun to blush, "Draco has told me much about you too," she felt compelled to say, hating how the lie had rolled off her tongue. "Your home, it is lovely."

Mrs Malfoy turned around, her hands clasping together close to her chest, "my home away from home," she said, pursing her lips before meeting her eyes once more. "Let's have tea."

* * *

Draco attempted to ignore the tension, although it was filling the room thicker than one those darkness pellets from the Weasley shop. His mother, who was not for hiding her emotions, kept her eyes firmly on Hermione as she struggled to explain what she wished to do now that they had graduated.

For him, this was simply tea and crumpets; for Hermione, this was a test.

Not that he ever had any concerns, but the witch was proving herself with each question his mother flung at her. Her answers were always dignified, but he was more proud of the sarcasm that her answers were coated in when delivered. At one stage he had considered interrupting, but he knew that both these witches would gut him where he stood if he did.

Neither of them ever needed a man to save them.

"May I use your bathroom?" Hermione asked, and Draco swallowed at the realisation he was going to be alone with his mother.

She pointed in the direction, and as soon as Hermione was out of earshot, his mother's eyes had found his. "I won't deny her intelligence," she spoke.

"But?" Draco snarled, raising his eyebrow and caring little for insolence.

Narcissa Malfoy shrugged at her son; a shrug that would mean little to anyone who witnessed it, but was enough to signal her feelings to those who knew her. "She is still… _simple."_

"There is nothing simple about that witch, mother. Not only is she acknowledged by the wizarding population of Britain a ' _The Brightest Witch of her Age_ ', but I assure you that the title is not nearly as complimentative as it should be."

His mother frowned, "you love her?"

Draco sighed, not because he found it difficult to acknowledge, but because Hermione had appeared from around the corner and while he knows nothing terrible had been said, her fears that she wouldn't get approval was already churning. He could have hexed his mother for it, for making her doubt herself or them. He would have hexed her if the woman wasn't as quick as a professional duellist and would probably hang him by his ankles until he apologised.

It wasn't hard; it was the easiest thing in the world to feel and say. "Yes mother, I do," his smile forming larger than he thought it could as he met the brown eyes behind his mother. "More than anything. I would… _risk it all_ for Hermione Granger. I'm very serious about her."

The older witch smirked, lifting her cup to her lips as she doused him in daggers over the top before slowly settling it back on the saucer before her. "Then you should put the poor girl out of her misery and retrieve her from standing behind me," Narcissa spoke. Draco nodded to Hermione as she stepped past, dipping her head as her hair attempted to cover her embarrassment. "This will…" Narcissa was groaning uncomfortably as if trying to find the right words. "... be difficult for me; I may offend you."

Hermione found Draco's hand on her wrist before his fingers trailed down her skin to weave in between hers. "I think I can be _accommodating."_ Her head was turning to meet his as if she was telling him that she would try and not let his mother bother her, but only for him.

"I should extend an invitation out to your parents. Are they both of mu...ggleborn heritage?"

The air went cold, and he wished he had mentioned this far sooner to save Hermione the moment. Draco opened his mouth to speak, ready to step in and be the man that his girlfriend would need him to be.

Draco's worried weren't needed, Hermione straightening her back as she held tightly onto his hand, "my parents have been Obliviated." Draco saw his mother frown for a second before her face reset to its normal mask. "They do not know that I exist, or that they had a daughter."

His mother looked down, stretching her hands out on the table in front of her, "I am deeply sorry for your loss."

His eyes met his mother's, knowing that she meant it and she gave him that look, the one he had met so many times over uncomfortable dinners.

_Marry her, Draco._

* * *

**June 21st, 1999**

* * *

She planted the last box in Draco's new bedroom, sighing before falling onto the brand new bed as the soft sheets greeting her as Hermione wished to crawl beneath them and surrender into sleep. This part of London was not where she expected him to lay roots; the busy Muggle world below seemed as though it wasn't as ready for Draco Malfoy as he was for it.

The place was far more average than Hermione expected. Two bedrooms and an interior that seemed homely; none of this place screamed Draco, but as he reminded her continually, ' _people change_ '.

"Uh-uh," a voice drawled as she opened one eye to see her blonde haired boyfriend plant his box on top of hers. "I always sleep near the door."

"And I always sleep on the right," Hermione smirked closing her eye as she felt the bed springs moved as she opened them again to see him crawling up towards her.

Draco wore his trademark smirk, one that she teased him for mercifully and loved all at once. "I guess we've reached a crossroad."

"Looks like we have," Hermione said with a smirk, her tongue passing over her lips as he dives down to grab them with his. A groan was escaping as she searches and seeks for his moan when she finds it deepening.

Draco broke from her lips, his hand brushing the loose curls from her face as he smiled. "You could, sleep at your place and then no more wars will occur."

"You're quite intelligent when you want to be," she said with a smirk. "Although I am doubtful that wars were started over who sleeps where."

"You didn't hear in your travels across Britain, the nose-less bastard doesn't like to sleep near a drafty window," Draco grinned, moving in between her legs as she laughed richly. His fingers were tracing down her jeans as he hovered above her. "I'm glad I occasionally rise to the occasion."

"Oh you rise alright," Hermione continued to laugh, watching him smirk in return.

"I can rise now," his tongue licking his lips as if she was a dessert he only ever wanted to feast upon.

"You're incorrigible!"

A smile on her face that Hermione knew he would thank the heavens for later. His place had barely been his for a few hours, and already they had filthed the kitchen and dining area with his 'professional stamina' as he preferred to call it. Hermione liked to call it, 'being separated for an evening'.

"One of my finer qualities," Draco said as she bit back a laugh.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"You were staring," she said, her hand on her hip as he laughed at the motion.

"Just thinking, I could probably unpack later?"

* * *

**June 30th, 1999**

* * *

"Do I ask what this means?"

Draco smirked, her bare skin against his as they lay in his bed, _their bed_. It hadn't intended to be 'theirs', but since settling on the townhouse in London, the two of them hadn't been apart. At first, it had been because neither was ready to sleep alone, the other and more important was that they didn't want to be apart. "I think this is the universe telling us that we shouldn't run from one another and that, you should forever remain in these sheets with me," Draco wiggling his eyebrows.

Hermione groaned playfully as he pulled her closer, placing a kiss on her forehead. "I'm serious."

"So am I," he laughed. "I think you're stuck with me, love."

He felt her head move and looked to see her eyes on him. A deep pool of brown was greeting him, and he knew he would never tire of them.

"If you want," Draco quickly said, doubting having crept in during the silence. Even though he had her beside him, as the two of them had done for the last week, he still didn't want to get excited that this would be permanent. That she had helped him unpack, helping him buy furniture that was more to his taste - although he was sure it was more to hers - he still felt doubtful that he really had her.

This was a different world, the one at the castle was forced and out here she had choices, options.

"I would never… I would want you to be happy, is all I am saying."

Hermione smiled, "I've wanted you since you stopped being a pig. Even when you're a bloody prat, I did. I just, don't want us to rush things because I quite, well I like how we are," her eyes closing as she curled into him hiding her face. "It would be too painful to lose you; I wouldn't want you to get sick of me."

Draco slipped his fingers under her chin, moving her face to look at his, "I'm not ever, ever going to tire of you. Not ever; even if you do have a tendency to boss me around, I honestly think I need it." Her lips began to curl into a smile; one that made his heart swell in a way that made him feel alive. One that made him want to wrap all of her around him and never let go. "You, are stuck with me. I do not ever think I'll deserve you, but I will try every single hour of every single day to earn you. Because I'm hopelessly lost without you."

"You do make bad choices, so I would have to take that into consideration," she smirked as he scoffed teasingly. His hand was pulling her closer to his side, his hand grazing up her waist to the skin under her breast as he revelled in her intake of breath.

"I make terrible choices," he said kissing her deeply. His hand was sliding down her stomach, his eyes closing as she nibbled down on his bottom lip as she gasped as he touched her core. "So, you have to be with me until your dying day."

Hermione's eyelashes flickered, the sun beginning to pour through the drapes as he committed the sight to memory. "It's like you proposed again," she laughed, before gasping as his fingers teased her. She almost lost herself in the attention he was giving her, when she realised he hadn't silenced her and her eyes opened quickly. "Draco, we just, we just got out of Hogwarts… Are you? Draco, I mean —"

"— I think that you should relax," his eyes glazed as he slowly moved over her, his hands taking a leg each and placing them over his hips. Draco tilted his head to the side, taking in the beauty that was Hermione Granger in his sheets in the heart of London. "I'm not doing anything, except informing the neighbours what my name is."

Draco slowly kissed her lips, hoping to take her doubt with his touch. He could feel how tense she still was, knowing that while he enjoyed taking his time, he didn't wish for her to be uncomfortable. "I don't want to spend another moment being unsure about you ever again. And I vow, to not hurt you and protect you, let you always make your own choices. For now, that is all I have. I hope, I wish and want that to be enough."

Hermione breathed out in relief, her hand scrambling for her wand as she mumbled the charm and he groaned in apprehension for the feel of her around his length. "You are always enough for me, Draco Malfoy."

* * *

**July 9th, 1999**

* * *

"Tell me, _my love_ , why I am going?"

Draco turned as he moved his tie into place to see the radiance that was Hermione Granger, bookworm, looking as if she just rolled out of Pureblood Weekly. Her dress cut into her small waist, accentuating it and showing the curves she had spent so much time hiding beneath robes. Draco knew he had let out a gasp, he even knew that he was smiling and that if he didn't change the expression, ' _it would be stuck like that forever_ ', but he chose to take that chance.

Hermione smiled, her whole aura seeming different and while he wished to put his finger on it, he didn't want to ruin the perfect moment they were about to go into. He took her hand, bowing slightly as he pressed a kiss to her knuckles as he met her brown eyes. He saw her eyes fill with happiness and he wanted to allow that to fill him, build him up because he was sure he would need the confidence today.

"Green is beautiful on you," he murmured as he stood upright, their hands still entangled with the others. "Far more worthy of being against your skin than anyone else's."

Hermione's smile widened, "I will be sure to tell your mother of that when I next see her," she said amused until she must have noticed his smile faltering. "I am kidding; I have always liked the colour green. Only emerald, not quite Slytherin."

He wrapped his other hand around her waist, tugging her closer to him as he allowed the sweet scent of her perfume to encase him in her magic. "You are quite Slytherin for a lion."

"If you continue to keep paying me compliments, I may have a head nearly as big as yours."

Draco pressed his lips to her jaw, hearing the slight gasp at his touch and he would never tire of hearing the effect he had on her. "I think we would need to get larger door frames if your head was to expand," his eyes flashing up to meet hers, "you have all that hair to get through too."

Hermione swatted at him, and he let out a small laugh as she turned to look at herself in the mirror that she had fallen in love with; The mirror that she had forced him to carry all the way back from the furniture store down the road.

"You won't leave me today, will you?" Draco had asked before he had the chance to stop himself. The counselling, while useful, hadn't made as much difference as he had hoped for the galleons it cost him. The idea of attending a social event for Dean - even if the two were now friends - had been worrying him since the day he had received the invitation.

She smiled at him through the mirror, her eyes twinkling and as she turned to stand before him, whatever doubts he had building she put out with her smile. "Never. That does mean you will need to dance with me."

"I think, Granger, that is something I can agree to do." His hand reached up to brush a loose strand behind her ear, "if you step on my feet, however."

"Hmm?" She asked warningly.

Draco chuckled lightly, "I will still love you."

Hermione raised her nose in an 'I thought so' sort of way, "nice save, _Malfoy_."

* * *

"Seems a bit ridiculous to me," Theo muttered, sipping snarkily on the glass in his hands. "As if marriage even means anything."

Draco smirked to himself, pleased that at least Hermione could not hear his harping as she grinned from ear to ear at the sight of Dean Thomas hugging his fiance. It washed over him, the moment and the romance of it all. He was sure he would have felt terrified at the sight of someone being proposed to because that was how men were programmed. They were destined to jump off the deep end and begin panicking about next to nothing, while the woman they were there with thought little or nothing about the moment.

He didn't worry. He didn't even feel sick at the idea that Hermione might want this one day. Draco felt excited; he felt joyous at the possibility that her arms could be wrapped around his neck as she pressed a teary kiss to his lips. Her high pitched squeal as she looked to her friends, showing the ring he would have agonised over. He even thought of the canapes that they could enjoy, knowing how much she had enjoyed the prawn one that was floating around.

The very tray she hadn't been able to break her eyes from even to notice him staring at her full of amazement that she was here, with him, of her own choosing.

"Are you even listening?"

Draco snorted, "not even in the slightest, mate."

Theo rolled his eyes, muttering something like 'typical' under his breath before burying his mouth back in his drink like some barbarian that hadn't enjoyed the delicacy in quite a while. This, Draco knew with confidence, was not true.

"I said," Theo said a little louder. "Who even thinks about marriage at this age?"

He felt Hermione curl into his arm, knowing that the little nosy witch would have undoubtedly heard the comment this time. "I think it is rather romantic," Hermione sighed as her eyes stayed on the two dancing men, their arms wrapped around the other. "That Dean would know at this age, that in his words, 'he doesn't wish to waste a lot of years to appease others when he already knows that Seamus is the one'." Her smile could light a darkened city with the way it glowed. "If that isn't romance, I am not sure what is."

Draco turned his head to face Theo, not being able to help raise his brow in mockery at the dressing down his witch had dished out.

"I think it is rather silly is all," Theo scoffed, his cheeks brightening.

Draco found Hermione's hand around her waist, resting his lips for a second on the top of her head before her eyes looked up at him. He felt her fingers weave in between his and he stared into the orbs that had made him someone he could be proud of.

"I may have to agree with, Hermione," Draco said as her lips curled at the sides.

Theo snorted in the typically undignified way he always did. "Next you'll be telling me that you have thought of marrying one another."

Draco just continued to stare at her, watching as her brows furrowed and she tried to process the lack of response to his friend, or no reply at all. He waited, what felt like an eternity for her to join him, but when her eyes widened Draco almost felt his chest tighten in response as her lips parted in surprise.

"Fuck off!" Theo shouted, several heads turning to look at the three of them. "You cannot be -"

"- I implore you to shut _the fuck up_ , Nott," Draco hissed as he painted a smile on his face. "Free bar, or do you wish to drink the rest of your inheritance."

Theo adjusted his jacket, looking around and offering Potter and the younger Weasley a smile on the other side of the room before turning to face him. "You… have considered?"

Draco sighed as he felt her eyes burn into him, knowing that whatever he said she would hold onto and make sure he adhered to it. If he said the wrong thing, he was aware that it would be thrown at him in the next argument they shared. So he settled on something else entirely, something Draco knew he couldn't get wrong if he tried.

The truth; The very unusual thing that had taken him so long to get right, but when Draco did, he had found that he nailed it.

"If, I was going to _wed someone_." Draco held her hand tighter, a thousand moments over a span of years flashing before his eyes. Hermione at the Yule Ball, the punch in his third year, the horror on her face at the Quidditch World Cup. Then they blended into something else, her hands helping to heal him after he was attacked, her fingers weaving into his at New Year and the sight of her laughing in his arms. "I would only wed you, _Hermione_. I would… You are it for me, there is nothing else I could ever want, and as long as I have you, everything else means so little that even if I didn't long for something, it wouldn't be as much as I longed for you."

Hermione curled into him, pressing a kiss to his cheek as she settled back into her previous position. Her fingers still tightly holding his, but her eyes watching the happy couple kiss on the dancefloor of their engagement.

And that was why Draco loved Hermione. She was like no other, and she made everything as simple as it could be. Loving her was the easiest thing he could do, being with her was simple and being happy was never something he had to think of, he just was, and he knew he always would be.

* * *

**May 14th, 2000**

* * *

The two of them lay on their bed, the day's event still swirling around them and their smiles brighter than a spotlight. Their heads were side by side; their bodies in opposite directions. Draco lay beside her in a custom-made emerald suit that he had bought 'ready for all occasions', and Hermione lay in a white Grecian dress she had fallen in love with in Rome. He turned his head to face her, basking in all of her radiance and beauty; she turned to face him and commit to memory how handsome he was on this day.

"We got married.." Hermione whispered as she bit down on her lip. "Married. Us."

"That we did."

"Feels somewhat.. unreal."

"True that, Mrs Malfoy," Draco added as he reached for her hand, raising it up to see the sparkling band that had belonged to her mother. "Do you regret it?"

"Not at all. Just, bizarre. I always imagined a large affair."

Draco held her hand in his tighter, his thumb softly rubbing her fingers as she gazed into his eyes and he wanted to repeat every vow he had said to her at the chapel.

"Tell me about our life, Mrs Malfoy.."

"What do you mean?"

"With tomorrow being the beginning of our lives, what would we have to look forward to," Draco whispered, as he heard her dress rustle in her movements.

"Umm. Well, we'll be happy forever," Hermione said as he smiled, watching her eyes glisten with excitement. "Have two, maybe three kids. I know for Purebloods you usually have a boy, and that's it but it, sounds positively lonely."

"It was.." He said regrettably. "But I had Dobby."

"Well, yeah, but we know what became of him, and I feel our children will need other children. I am a chatterbox don't you know," Hermione laughed.

He knew she was waiting for a snarky comment, but he couldn't bring himself to ruin the moment. "Go on, love."

Hermione smiled even brighter. "And we'd live in a cute French-style house in the countryside with a beautiful garden and a tree house, for the children, not us. I always wanted a treehouse though," she said as he moved his finger to stroke her smile. "What about you?"

Draco imagined it all, watching the flickering movie appear in front of his eyes and for only him to see. There were soft blonde curls above a pair of grey eyes as the girl spun on the floor, her brother sat watching her with eyes wide like saucers and brown like chocolate. Hermione, as radiant as she was now, laughing her head off as she held a child in her arms he couldn't quite tell the gender of, and he heard his loud laugh at the scene before him.

He came back to reality with a crash, staring into her eyes as she waited for his answer and he knew that there was only really one.

"Everything you just said. That's what I want," Draco said with a real, comfortable smile. "I want the children, the pets if you must and the house with a garden where we can chase after our children. I want you, Hermione. I want you with me, _always_."

* * *

**AN: There we have it. Complete.**

Thank you to every single reviewer, reader, follower and favouriter. You have made a girl who didn't believe she could write, write. You made a girl who didn't think she was good at it, do it and you made her smile when she didn't have a lot to smile about.  
This baby was birthed when I was desperate and broken, similar to Draco, and as I recovered and got accustomed to my new 'leg' so to speak, Draco became comfortable with himself.

I thank you all from the bottom of my heart for following this with me; I hope to see you again on my other ventures.  
 **The Abyss - Dramione:** is currently updated on a _**Tuesday**_ and is a mind-boggling experience, I wholeheartedly recommend it (even though I am the writer).

I love you all endlessly.  
 **PJ** xox


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